Burns Like the Night
by Dark Aegis
Summary: When is a dream a dream and a nightmare the future? A Tenth Doctor, Rose, and Jack story. Written for Loneraven's Tenth Doctor Ficathon on LiveJournal for WMR.
1. Chapter 1: Screams in the Dark

**Title:** Burns Like the Night  
**Authors:** Gillian Taylor  
**Rating:** R  
**Characters:** Tenth Doctor, Rose, Jack  
**Summary:** When is a dream a dream and a nightmare the future?  
**Spoilers:** PotW, speculation on Torchwood, and references to the Missing Adventure 'Goth Opera' and the BF Audio companion Evelyn Smythe (Note, in Evelyn's Timeline, I'm ignoring the 'Project: Twilight, Project: Lazarus, & 'Arrangements For War' trilogy audios - they didn't happen, so consider this AU from her perspective)  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own them. I just like playing with them...a lot.  
**Archive:** Sure, just let me know.

**A/N:** First off, a million thanks to my fabulous betas NNWest, Ponygirl72, and ChloeAz. This fic was written for Loneraven's Tenth Doctor Ficathon for WMR who wanted Jack returned but unhappy; shippiness; & an impossible choice.

* * *

**Burns Like the Night****  
by Gillian Taylor**

**Chapter 1: Screams in the Dark**

The dream ended as it always had: with a scream.

Rose sat upright in bed with a gasp as she was wrenched from sleep by the force of sudden, all-consuming terror. Her still sleep-befuddled mind fought against unseen bonds before she recognised the feel of the sheets that had wrapped around her during the course of the night. Stilling her struggles, she opened her eyes and stared blankly into the darkness of her room. "Not again," she whispered, cradling her head between her hands.

The first time that this had happened, the Doctor had heard her scream. He'd held her until her tremors had stopped, whispering to her of the places he was going to take her. She knew that he blamed himself for the night terrors, despite her assurances otherwise. However, she hadn't wanted to talk about it, despite his encouragements. She'd only wanted to be held, comforted, soothed. It'd been a nightmare, nothing more, nothing less. But, with his arms around her, she'd found sleep again and no dreams.

The second time it had happened, they'd been in separate cells on Ceralais. Once they'd managed to escape, he'd implied that he had heard her cry out but she had dismissed his concerns. She'd suggested that he must've heard someone else. However, she knew differently. It had happened again.

By the sixth time in as many days, she was convinced that something was wrong. There was no tangible proof beyond her feelings. Yet, instinct told her that there was more to the dream than she could understand. It had a purpose, a meaning, or, perhaps, it was a warning.

But of what?

It had always been a nightmare of sensation. She knew that there'd been some images involved but each time she thought she might've recalled something important it would fade away into a blur of gold. Only the emotions, the feelings, the sensations remained. What she remembered most was the hunger.

It'd clawed through her, a living, fiery, breathing entity brought to life by the force of its need. And underlying it all was the fear. All-consuming, ever growing, it had striven to consume her. The hunger and the fear and the need had grown so large that she knew if she hadn't woken she'd be gone.

No more Rose Tyler, just basic, primal instinct.

That was where she had always screamed and escaped the dream. Only, tonight, it was different.

She remembered a phrase that she was fairly certain had never been in the dream before. The phrase did little to calm her fears, but, instead, only amplified them. The voice that had uttered them had been hers, only magnified somehow.

"It is time," she repeated the words from the dream.

And, as if those words had been the catalyst, a massive explosion rocked the TARDIS.

* * *

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no!" he protested as he frantically, desperately tried to coax a response out of the suddenly unresponsive time ship. The centre console was sparking intermittently, stinging his fingers as he frantically tried to keep the shuddering TARDIS in the Vortex and, not so coincidentally, in one piece.

The explosion had been an unexpected and unwelcome reminder of the last time his ship had been wrenched from the Vortex, through the Void, and into a parallel world. Thankfully the Vortex had not disappeared this time. So, the important question was what had just happened?

The possibilities were endless, really. Could've been that something had rammed them – though that was rather unlikely since the Time Agency's ships couldn't travel in the same relative dimension as the TARDIS. Might've passed too close to the time-space shadow of a black hole that was exactly six point seven five kren off-centre with the rest of the universe. Though that seemed too simple of an explanation. Time anomaly? No. Those tended to toss them about a bit, but something about this particular situation didn't seem to fit a temporal anomaly's typical behaviour.

Maybe…

_Gong. Gong. Gong. Gong._

The Cloister Bell, he identified absently as he tried to stabilise their flight. Typical. Never rained but it poured. Especially when it came to unexplained anomalies affecting the normal operation of his ship. Another jolt managed to circumvent his previous efforts at stabilisation.

The TARDIS screamed.

"No!" he cried as he reached for another control. There had to be something else he could do. He could already feel the edges of the time-ship begin to warp from the effects of whatever had occurred. They were losing internal stability. The inner dimensions were beginning to collapse.

_Gong. Gong. Gong. Gong._

Rose! Oh, no. He couldn't try to find her; his efforts were best focused upon trying to save them both. Hopefully she'd realise that something was wrong and make her way to the console room.

Unless she'd been injured in that explosion. Thrown against the wall. She could be lying, unconscious, somewhere between her room and here.

No. He was worrying himself unnecessarily. She'd be fine. Well, she would be if he could just managed to…

_GONG. GONG. GONG._

Oh, no. The Cloister Bell was escalating in both tempo and in strength of the sound, meaning the danger was increasing.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, darting to the other side of the console. If he could just reverse the polarity of the…

"Doctor!" Rose said as she stumbled into the room, gripping the nearest strut to keep her balance.

"Busy!" he replied, though he allowed himself a moment of relief since she was with him. He flipped another switch. So close, so…

Then the ship began to fall. Internal gravity was lost as he felt himself lift off the floor, almost as if the ship were inside a lift.

Not again. Please, not again.

_Thousands of battle TARDISes fell, in flames, from the Vortex. The dying scream of their crew echoed in his mind. It'd been the so-called end of the last great Time War. Only one TARDIS and one man survived._

_But they, too, had burned._

Not again. Never again. There had to be something he could do. Something…

The sound of the bell reached a crescendo as another explosion rocked the ship. Gravity returned as the TARDIS landed with a loud and echoing thump. He found himself in a rather undignified heap on the floor, wincing from bruises and aches that hadn't been there before.

The danger wasn't over. The internal dimensions were collapsing. Rooms were being absorbed by the struggling time ship. She would rebuild, exactly as they were before, but she needed time.

Time that they no longer had.

"Rose!" He scrambled to his feet and hurried around the console toward where he'd seen her last.

She was struggling to stand, but her hand gingerly touching the back of her head revealed that she hadn't fared as well as he. "Doctor? What happened?" Her speech was slightly slurred, but there wasn't enough time to check her for a concussion.

They had to get out.

Now.

There wasn't enough time to check the sensors. Provided, of course, that the sensors even worked. He'd just have to trust that they'd landed somewhere that was fairly safe.

He could feel another room disappear. The wardrobe room was gone. It was too close to the console room.

Far, far too close.

"Hurry!" he said, reaching out to grab her hand and tugging her toward the door.

"What's-?" Rose tried again.

He interrupted her before she could finish her question. "Dimensions are collapsing. We've got to get out!"

Thankfully, she said nothing more. They hurried to the doors. Thankfully, enough of the TARDIS was still operational to allow them that particular escape. He didn't leave enough time for the doors to be fully open before he pushed Rose outside and slipped out himself. The doors slammed shut behind them. He knew that if he tried to open them now, he wouldn't be able to.

Not yet at least.

But, first things first. Find out where they were and make sure that Rose wasn't concussed.

That was when he turned around. The giant fountain loomed over them, a silver pillar reaching for the sky.

His spirits dropped even more. "Oh, great," he groused. "We're in _Cardiff_."

* * *

Of course it was Cardiff. Never failed, that. Her earlier fears over the dream were gone. Instead, she worried about the TARDIS. She'd only seen the Doctor look like that once before, when they were stuck in the alternate Earth with, apparently, no means of escape. The TARDIS had been dead there. Now, though, she was fine. Right? "What happened, Doctor?"

He looked distraught as he paced in front of the TARDIS, running his hand through his hair in an unconscious movement. "I'm not sure. Could've been anything, really. Something I do or don't know. But the effect's the same. The interior dimensions of the TARDIS are gone. She had to absorb them to retain her structural integrity. She's reconstructing herself now but, until she's done, we can't go back inside."

She heaved a sigh of relief. The TARDIS'd be okay. However, they were stuck in Cardiff without money, without a change of clothes, and she was still in her night outfit. Somehow, pyjamas weren't her ideal choice for an outfit to wear late in the afternoon in twenty-first century Wales. "So we're stuck. For how long?"

"Forty-eight hours," he replied absently.

Great. No, fantastic. "Okay, then we're gonna have to find a place to stay, yeah? And a change of clothes, at least for me. But 'ow're we supposed to do that without any money?"

He turned toward her, blinking in surprise. "Who says we don't have any money?"

She blinked. "You have money?" He never had before. Well, he had, but he still generally made her pay for chips when they were in her time.

"Course I have money!" he exclaimed in a rather affronted tone. "Just haven't needed to use it recently. In fact, I do have to be rather careful with what I do with it. Have to periodically invest in failing ventures to lose money, actually. If I don't, I might end up being so rich that I'll get too much attention. Happened once, actually. Wasn't too pleasant of an experience. Had to spend far too much time in ruffles." His nostalgic expression faded as he turned his attention to her.

She didn't have enough time to ask him about what had happened as he continued, "I know just the place, actually. There's a bed and breakfast just on the outskirts of Cardiff. Evelyn should…"

"Evelyn?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes. Nice woman, you'll like her. She was a professor of history that I once knew back when I had an atrocious taste in clothes."

"Ah." That certainly answered her questions. Yeah, right.

He abruptly turned his full attention to her, stepping closer until he filled her vision. Her breathing quickened as he peered into her eyes and she thought that she could just barely feel the brush of his fingers against her temple. "How're you feeling, Rose? You had a nasty bump back there. Didn't have enough time to check you for bruises or other injuries."

She was unnerved by the sudden change in topic. "'M fine," she replied. Well, she was save for the slight headache, but that was only to be expected after the jolt she'd received when they'd landed.

"Mmm," he grunted noncommittally, still staring at her. She could get lost in his eyes, she thought absently, especially when he looked at her like that. As if they were the only people in the world that mattered. He blinked, and the moment was gone.

With a wide grin, he held out his hand. "Come on, Rose. Places to go, people to see, and tea to drink! Should be fun."

Shaking her head, she took it. Why was it that whenever he said something like that she knew that it'd be anything but?

Oh, yes. Experience.

* * *

Evelyn Smythe. Oh, he hadn't seen her in years. Well, of a sort. Judging by the date on one of the newspapers, he'd last seen her about six months previously. Though that was when he was still in his sixth incarnation. Might be a bit of a shock for her to see him as he was now. Then again, it might not be. She'd spent a fair amount of time with him after all. Not much tended to surprise his former companions after that.

When they reached the street, he directed Rose to go into the nearest shop and gather whatever items she needed for the evening and the following day. They could see to further provisions tomorrow, when he'd be able to make a trip to the bank to withdraw money. For now, he had enough to get them through the night.

Rose returned shortly thereafter with two bags of shopping. "Got us the basics. Toothbrush, toothpaste, hair brushes, an' deodorant. Also picked up a change of clothes for myself an' another shirt for you jus' in case."

Ah, yes. He hadn't thought of that. "Thanks." He smiled warmly at her. After grabbing one of the bags from her, he hailed a taxi.

Much as he'd prefer to walk, the distance between Millennium Square and Evelyn's bed and breakfast was considerable. Though Evelyn had insisted that he could have a room free of charge whenever he was in the area, he didn't want to impose upon her hospitality after dark.

Traffic seemed unusually heavy as the taxi travelled through the streets of Cardiff. After ten minutes at a dead stop, he began to wonder what was wrong. The trip certainly seemed to take longer than it should. Normally, travelling from Millennium Square to Evelyn's should be approximately twenty minutes even with traffic at its heaviest.

However, before he could say anything to the driver, the man turned toward him. "Sorry about this, sir, but they're re-routing traffic again. Should have you there in about fifteen more minutes. They found another one."

He frowned. "Another one?"

"Cor, hadn't you heard? It's been on the news."

"Been out of town for a while. No telly, sadly." He shrugged slightly. "What's wrong?"

"We've got our very own Jack the Ripper, sir. Well, of a sort. The police are baffled, but I think it's gotta be cultists. Y'know, Satanists. Only explanation for the condition the bodies are found in."

Oh, now his interest was piqued. Satanists? There shouldn't be any Satanists or other type of cultists in the Cardiff area. At least not for another dozen years or so. "And what's their condition?"

The driver looked in both directions for a moment before returning his attention to him. In a hushed voice, he said, "Well, you didn't hear this from me, but my mate Reg's on the force. He says that it started with a bunch o' attacks. Always at night, always when the victim's alone. They're attacked by someone – or, sometimes, a group of someones – and they come out of it rather weak. Got two bite marks on their neck, like one of their attackers have a snake or something. Been happening for about two months or so. Only last week it changed. The attackers are killing. And this is the really weird part. Besides the snake bites, the latest bodies don't have any blood."

His fears had been growing as the description had grown more detailed. He'd thought that their kind had been destroyed, or at least weakened, during the War. If there was an active nest in Cardiff…

"Wha', you mean like vampires?" Rose asked.

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far, miss. Satanists, like I said. They've got these weird rituals and stuff. Has to be Satanists." The traffic jam let up and the driver had to return his attention to the road.

She leaned over to him. "Doctor, I mean I've seen Buffy an' all. Is there such a thing as vampires?"

"'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy'," he quoted.

Rose blinked at him. "There are? You're kidding me."

He shook his head. "Not at all. And if there's an active vampire nest in this city, well, we're going to have to do something about it." If only he had access to the TARDIS. That'd make it far easier to track them, let alone be able to defeat them. No matter, maybe he could find something useful in Evelyn's larder. Garlic worked wonders, after all. Then he'd need something to fashion a stake…

"There're people out there, undead, who can't be seen in mirrors, can be killed by stakes through the heart, an' have a permanent craving for blood? Honestly?"

He nodded.

"Well," she said after a moment's thought. "I've met a werewolf an' ghosts. Only proper that I get to meet a vampire, too." Rose grinned at him and he felt an answering smile grow upon his face.

"Exactly!" he replied, giving her hand a squeeze.

The remainder of the journey to Evelyn's was spent in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. He'd have to tell her more about what to expect from vampires. Especially how faith could keep them at bay, but that could wait.

After paying the driver, he paused to regard the bed and breakfast. The last time he'd seen the place, it had been rather worn down looking, but it was obvious that Evelyn had been busy in the six months since he'd last been here. The old Victorian home was freshly painted in a pale yellow with subdued green trim. The garden had been well tended and, in a few years, he could tell that it would even give Alistair's rose garden some excellent competition.

He led Rose through the path to the front door. He raised his hand to knock, but it opened before he had a chance.

She looked older than when he'd last seen her, rather harried-looking but the ratty orange cardigan was the same as ever. She stood in the doorway and regarded both himself and Rose with a shrewd expression. "I was expecting you."

He'd thought that Evelyn wouldn't necessarily be surprised by his new appearance. However, he hadn't expected this particular reaction. He blinked. "You were?"

"Of course I was!" Evelyn snapped. "Five attacks and four deaths in the past two months? Unexplained and mysterious circumstances? That's practically your calling card, Doctor."

"Oh, well, maybe?" He still couldn't believe that she'd recognised him.

"Well, come in, then," Evelyn said, stepping back from the door. "You're in luck. Had my latest boarder disappear on me this morning, so I've got two rooms open."

"Rose Tyler, this is Evelyn Smythe. Evelyn, this is Rose. Now introductions are out of the way, how'd you recognise me?" That was still bothering him.

"Who else would it be?" Evelyn asked reasonably. "Nice to meet you, my dear. Now, the rooms are up the stairs and to the left. First two on the right, pick either one. Dinner'll be ready in about twenty minutes."

"Thanks," Rose replied, smiling faintly. After shooting him a confused glance, she headed upstairs.

He shook his head. "Evelyn, what's going on around here?"

"I'm in favour of the vampire theory, myself," she replied. "I could do with a nice cup of hot cocoa. Would you like some, Doctor? And then we can swap our stories. I'm sure you've got a few to share yourself. Especially since the last time I saw you, you were still the Doctor that I remember."

He smiled fondly. "How could I resist your famous hot cocoa?"

She smiled and led him to the kitchen. "Precisely."

An hour and a half, four cups of hot cocoa, dinner, and a much-shortened tale of how he'd come to his tenth incarnation later, he turned toward his former companion. "So what do you know about these attacks, Evelyn?"

"Oh," she said, folding her hands over the empty plate as she regarded the two of them. "Started about a month or two ago. Young girl was walking home from class when she was attacked by what she thought was a gang. She later reported that she felt as if the group of youths didn't care about how she reacted to them – almost as if they considered her beneath them. The police reported that the only injury she received from the attack were two strange puncture marks on her neck. Right about here," she demonstrated with a hand, pointing at the point just above her jugular vein.

"Happened again a week later. Only, that time, it was two victims. The next week, another one. The strange thing is that about two or three days after the initial attack, all of the victims disappeared. Then the deaths started. All drained of blood, most victims were out late at night by themselves, no witnesses. Last night there were two victims, only this time they were attacked at home. One of those victims is dead, just like the others."

"An' the police have no leads?" Rose asked.

Evelyn shook her head. "Not that I've heard of. I'm lucky I know as much as I do, actually. The local police think me as something of a nosy body. They humour me, but little else."

"Right. Then tomorrow morning, bright and early, Rose and I'll visit the local precinct. From there, we'll find the latest victim's home. What you've described indicates that we're dealing with relatively young vampires. They're drawing attention to themselves, and that's something they tended to avoid." He was about to add Evelyn's task when she shook her head.

"Sorry, Doctor. Not this time. You two'll have to do your investigations without me. My niece is in town, but she's not feeling too well. I need to keep an eye on her for the next few days." She didn't elaborate, but she didn't have to.

Evelyn's niece was the latest victim.

* * *

The dream started as it always did: with fear.

Mind-numbing, all-encompassing, heart-pounding terror filled her. She was asleep, but she wasn't. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't. She was alone – the antique mirror at the other side of the room told her as such – but her eyes told her a different story.

There was a man, a boy really, leaning over her. His bright blue eyes seemed to glow with an unearthly light in the semi-darkness. His hand gripped one of the posts at the top of the bed, flexing against the grain of the wood.

_Creak. Creak. Creak._

The boy smiled and the separation of his lips revealed the fine points of two elongated teeth. Vampire, she identified, trying to struggle.

Her body refused all commands. She couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't call for the Doctor. Her heart pounded against her chest. She was going to die. Not by choice, but by fate.

The dream…

The dream! She opened her eyes and stared, unseeing, at the canopy above her. It'd been nothing more than the dream. She was safe. The Doctor was in the room next to her. She was fine. Nothing was wrong. Feeling her heart slow its frantic beating as the terror faded, she glanced at the foot of the bed.

In the dim light, the antique mirror revealed little, but enough to know that she was alone.

That was when a hand – a hand that shouldn't exist – covered her mouth, muffling her gasp of shock.

A boy – the same one from her dream – leaned over her, grinning. "Wouldn't want any uninvited guests, now would we?"

_Doctor! Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor!_ she screamed in her mind, hoping against hope that he could hear.

The boy dipped his head to her neck, his hand tilting her head to provide the best angle.

No! Please, no. No, no, no, no. This would hurt, she decided in a frighteningly calm part of her mind. There would be no rescue. She was going to die.

Two injection points pierced her skin.

Sensations gained a strange clarity. She could feel him licking her skin, the blood leaving her body. She could hear him suckling at her neck, strange slurping noises that should've sent another pang of terror through her, but she felt oddly numb.

After an indeterminate amount of time, he pulled away from her. Smiling at her, she could see the red of her blood coating his lips. She still couldn't scream.

"This'll be our little secret, right? You're now one of us." With another smile, the boy walked to the window – the _open_ window – and flew – he _flew_! - out of the room.

She pressed her hand to her throat, feeling the puckered remains of the puncture wounds. It was still the dream, she decided. It couldn't be real. She wasn't just bitten by a vampire. She was fine. She was safe. The Doctor was in the next room.

She fell into a fitful sleep, comforting herself that it'd just been a dream.

And, in the deepest part of her slumbering mind, something golden stirred.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2: The Oncoming Storm

**Chapter 2: The Oncoming Storm**

He watched the coming dawn through narrowed eyes. He had no doubts that someone else had been attacked the night before. Somewhere, in the darkness of Cardiff, another innocent victim had been bitten – perhaps even truly killed – by a vampire. His hands clenched into fists as the first amber rays of light appeared over the distant horizon.

Much as he wished he could protect humanity from all the dangers that lurked in the darkness – both from their own world and from beyond – he was pragmatic enough to realise that even he had his limits. The Doctor, the last Time Lord, the Ka Faraq Gatri, Time's Champion. Labels, yes, and, rather often, a heavy responsibility.

Somewhere, in the darkness, the vampires were going to sleep, hidden from the burning rays of the sun. He had to find them, and stop them, before more innocent lives were taken or altered at their whim. In a way, he was thankful that his people were gone. He knew far too well what the Celestial Intervention Agency's response would've been at the revelation that their ancient enemy was alive and well and living in Cardiff.

Cardiff would've been destroyed. If not the planet.

He sighed and turned from the kitchen window. First things first. He needed to remember as much as he could about vampires. What were their weaknesses? Their failings? What could kill them or prevent someone from turning? What could…

He silently cursed under his breath. If he had access the labs on the TARDIS, he could come up with something that could protect them from the vampires. Only temporarily, but it should be enough to keep them at bay should they learn of his investigations. However, he'd have to do with what help faith, several cloves of garlic, and a few wooden stakes could provide.

"Good morning, Doctor," Evelyn said as she walked into the kitchen. "You're up early."

He shrugged noncommittally. He'd never been one for sleep. The previous evening, he'd tried but disturbing half-formed images and an active mind prevented any form of rest. "Good morning, Evelyn."

"Would you care for some hot cocoa?" She bustled toward the stove, pulling down a pan and a packet of cocoa mix. "Breakfast is a bit of do it yourself thing this morning. I've got cereal and there should be some eggs and bacon, or waffles. I don't want to leave my niece's side for long."

He frowned. If her niece had been bitten... He looked at her, concerned. "You'll have to leave her alone tonight. She'll be hungry, and I don't want her to come after you."

He could tell that she was about to protest, but she seemed to deflate instead, looking all of her sixty-five years and then some. "Doctor, she's the only family that I have left. There must be something that can be done."

He wanted to lie to her, tell her that there was no doubt he could save her niece. That was what he did, after all. Save a person, save the day. But, in this case, he couldn't. Not to Evelyn. She knew him too well. "Oh, there's plenty that can be done. You will need to eat garlic, as much of it and as frequently as possible. I'll have to talk to her and get a description of the one that bit her. And then I will have to find the one who bit her before the next full moon." He made a few mental calculations. He'd have at least four days to find the vampire who had bitten Evelyn's niece.

"And once you find that vampire?" Evelyn prodded.

"I'll have to kill it," he replied. "If I don't, the change will be permanent."

She pulled in a sharp breath and her hand paused in the midst of the act of stirring. "Oh."

Rose stumbled into the room shortly thereafter, wincing as the sunlight hit her eyes. "'S bright out there." Without waiting for a comment from either himself or Evelyn, she continued, "What's for breakfast?"

"Cereal, eggs and bacon, beans, or waffles. What would you like?" Evelyn seemed to put her earlier concerns behind her as she pulled down three mugs from above the stove and began to pour a measure of the cocoa into each.

"Mmm, cereal I think, thanks. Where d'you keep it?" Rose asked.

"Oh, nonsense. Sit down, you too, Doctor. I'll get it for you." Evelyn crossed the kitchen to the larder and, opening the door, she disappeared inside for a moment.

He shook his head and he picked up two of the mugs of cocoa, nodding for Rose to take the third. Rose looked a trifle pale as she grasped the last cup and a pang of worry shot through him at her appearance. "Are you all right, Rose?"

"'M fine," she immediately replied. "Jus' a bit tired, though. Didn't sleep too well last night."

He frowned and turned his full attention to her. He glanced quickly at her neck and he couldn't hide the relief on his face that there was nothing marring her skin. "Nightmares?" he asked, well recalling the recurring dream that had woken her several nights in a row.

She shrugged. "I dunno. Jus' couldn't sleep."

She was hiding something, but he decided to let it pass. He didn't want to pry. "We'll go to the police department this morning and learn what they know. Do you still want to go, or would you prefer to stay here?"

Rose shook her head. "No, I'll come with you. You need me."

He reached across the table to grasp her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Always."

She looked thoughtful for a moment before she added, "'Sides, knowin' you, you'd get into trouble without me an' then I'd have to come and rescue you. Gets a little old, that."

Before he could do more than open his mouth to protest, Evelyn's laughter signalled her return. "He hasn't changed a bit, then. He always did get into trouble without me. Then again, I tended to get into trouble without him, too."

Rose grinned and, for a moment, he was uncomfortably reminded of their encounter with Sarah Jane. "Did not. Well, maybe a bit. But not always."

His companions' laughter filled the room.

* * *

Great. No, and Jack deliberately used his so-called friend's favourite word, _fantastic_. After all this time, the bastard had finally chosen to show up literally on his doorstep. The proof was right in front of him in grainy black and white. Oh, sure, he knew he still had Rose with him. Knew he had picked up a new face, too. The legends were right in those regards – Time Lords and their means of cheating death. But he certainly hadn't missed the Doctor. Oh, no. Hadn't missed him at all. He hadn't mourned him, either. Not for nights at a time. Not for months. Not for years.

He hadn't missed Rose either, but he couldn't blame her. It had always been about Rose. The Doctor had always loved her, even though he'd never actually said the words. Of course he'd returned for her. Must've done, right after regeneration. That was the only thing to explain the data in the Torchwood files about the Doctor and the Prime Minister. Not to mention Queen Victoria. Sir Doctor of TARDIS, indeed.

The bastard hadn't returned for him, though. And that had been a sobering thought as he'd discovered just what he'd meant to the last Time Lord. He'd been nothing more than a tagalong, a toy, a tool. Didn't matter that he had loved him. Didn't matter that he'd _died_ for him. The Doctor had still left him behind. Changed him, ruined him, and then dumped him.

The photo of the TARDIS made a satisfying ripping noise as he tore the sheet in two. It didn't matter, he told himself firmly. They'd deal with the Doctor (bastard) in due course. For now, he had more important things to concern himself with.

"Did you get the files I asked for?" he asked Gwen, systematically shredding the picture.

She shot him a concerned glance, but she said nothing about his actions. Smart woman. "Yes," she replied, holding out a thick manila folder. "This is everything homicide has on the case, including crime scene photos, autopsy reports, and the few eye-witness accounts that exist."

He brushed the fragments of the photo into the waste bin and then accepted the folder, flipping it open to the first page. It was a generic case report. Victim's name: Emily Cutting. DOB: June 6th, 1984. Barely younger than Rose, then. He firmly suppressed the thought. It didn't matter.

The crime scene photos revealed little beyond the abundance of cover for an unscrupulous attacker. There was nothing obvious about the scenes. He flipped the pages. Each photograph was nearly identical. A shadowed alleyway, plenty of hiding spots, and – in the later photos – crime scene tape marking off the scene of the crime. There was surprisingly little blood on the concrete, but he hadn't expected any.

Every rookie at the Time Agency had learned about vampires. Either from their mentors or from their fellow cadets, the stories had spread firmly intertwined with tales of Time Lords. There'd been a war, it was said. And all the Great Vampires – apparently monstrous beasts – had been destroyed save one by the Time Lords. Their legacy, however, had lived on in the humanoid vampires that they'd left behind.

There were vampires on every world in the Terran Empire. Every rookie would carry a wooden stake with them, though none of them truly believed the stories. They were just a bit of fun, a harmless lie told to keep their senses sharp. There were other monsters out there, and they were there to stop them.

He wanted to laugh bitterly at the thought. He'd been so young then. So naïve. Then again, he'd been just as naïve when he'd first walked into the TARDIS. He'd let the Doctor change him. Let the Time Lord ruin him for the con game. Made him care. Made him want to help. Made him fall in love. Fall in love with the Doctor, fall in love with Rose, and fall in love with their life.

Made him have to suffer, watching as the man, the woman, and that life disappeared into the space-time vortex without him. Enough, he told himself firmly. If he had one weakness, it was that.

The Doctor, memories of.

He flipped the page. "Just the two attacks in their homes?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah. Started just the other night. Two separate attacks, only one survivor." Gwen leaned against his desk, peering at the photographs. "Survivor's name's Victoria Smythe."

"Only in a manner of speaking," he corrected. "We're dealing with vampires, Gwen. There are no survivors. Only victims." He tapped the sheet for a moment, frowning. "But, there might be something we can do. Have a team pick up Miss Smythe. Then we can set Toshiko on the problem. Maybe we can find a way of reversing the process of the change. Save a few lives."

She frowned. "Victoria Smythe's staying with her aunt, one" - Gwen reached over the desk and turned the case report slightly to read the name. - "Evelyn Smythe. That's where the attack took place, at Evelyn's bed and breakfast. From what my contacts at homicide said, she's a force to be reckoned with."

"We'll have to pick her up too. Victoria might've already bitten her. We can't take the chance otherwise. Is there anyone else staying at the bed and breakfast?" It'd be a problem if there were any other civilians at the scene. If there weren't any other guests, they could post something to the effect that the Smythes had been taken in under protective custody and the B&B was closed until the end of the investigation. Yes, that would work.

"Not according to records. Apparently their latest guest disappeared this morning, no indication of where he went or if he was going to return," Gwen summarised.

Now that was suspicious. "Have someone look into the missing guest. See what they can turn up. And put a watch on the Smythe B&B and the other home crime scene. There might be something special about the locations. Our vampire friends might be back."

She nodded. "On it. And Jack…are you all right?"

He sighed. She knew very little about him, but she was still a friend. She still cared. Unlike a certain Time Lord. "Yeah. Just some old memories getting dredged up again."

"Do you want me to put a team on the TARDIS? Bring it into the warehouse?" Gwen asked.

He shook his head. "Nah. Just keep an eye on it. If the Doctor returns, or his companion, Rose Tyler, let me know. I'll figure something out then." Provided he didn't end up deciding to just put the bastard through another regeneration after what he'd pulled.

She didn't look happy with his answer, but she knew well enough when not to press. "Okay. And Jack, if you want to talk…"

It was a shadow of his usual carefree grin, but it was all he could muster. "I'll find you."

With a slight nod and a faint smile, Gwen left his office, leaving him alone with the case files and his memories.

"Damnit, Doctor. Why now?" he whispered.

As expected, there was no response.

* * *

What was going on?

He shook his head as he and Rose exited the police station. The extremely helpful sergeant had told him that the cases had been handed over to a higher authority. If he wanted more information, he'd have to go to them. However, the police officer wouldn't, or perhaps couldn't, tell him precisely what agency had jurisdiction over the case. It was a matter of national security now.

National security, he'd wanted to scoff. It wasn't a matter of "national" anything.

However, he had to acknowledge that he had reached what amounted to a dead end. Unless he could determine just what government agency had taken over the case files, he wouldn't be able to find out any more information. It certainly wasn't UNIT. It didn't match their typical methods.

"So what now?" Rose asked, her tone unusually sullen.

"Back to Evelyn's. I want to talk to her niece, see what she remembers. Maybe we can learn something new that way." He looked at her curiously for a moment, taking in her uncharacteristic pallor. "Are you sure you're all right?"

She smiled, but it seemed forced. "Told ya. I'm fine. Jus' tired."

It could be sleep deprivation. He'd send her to bed early tonight, he decided. Perhaps a full night's sleep would cheer her spirits. Besides, the following day, they'd be able to get back into the TARDIS.

He hailed a taxi and they climbed in. Thankfully, the ride was much shorter than it was the previous day. He took that to mean that there'd been no attacks. He certainly hadn't heard or seen anything to indicate otherwise.

When they arrived at the bed and breakfast, he realised that something was wrong. He crossed the short distance between the pavement and the front door with several long strides. He could see a yellow sheet of paper attached to the door. Its edges fluttered in the light breeze and he frowned as he read the official-looking note.

_The proprietor and residents of this facility have been taken into protective custody for the duration of an on-going investigation. This establishment is closed until further notice._

_Signed,_

_Security Services._

"Oh no," he whispered, a feeling of dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. If he'd only stayed with Evelyn, spoken to her niece earlier. This wouldn't've happened. He could've protected them or, at least, provided enough of a distraction for them to get away.

However, he hadn't. He was too late, again.

"Doctor, what security service has the authority to do this? Couldn't've been the police. MI-5?" Rose asked. Ah, yes, and that was the companion that he knew and loved.

"Perhaps," he replied. "It could've been any agency, actually. This notice is probably a distraction. Something meant to steer the curious as far away as possible from the real culprit. Now, if I remember correctly…" He walked over to a potted plant and lifted the plant out of its base. At the bottom of the pot, covered in dirt, was a key. Pulling it out, he handed it to Rose. "Oh, beautiful. She hasn't moved it. That'll get us inside."

Shrugging, Rose dusted the dirt off the key, slid it into the lock and opened the door.

The interior of the Victorian home hadn't been searched, but he hadn't expected it to be. The 'security services' were after Evelyn and her niece, nothing more. They walked into the sitting room and they both claimed a chair. "Right. This calls for a new strategy," he declared once they were seated.

"But how're we supposed to figure out which of the security services have them?" Rose asked, looking at him somewhat strangely. If he had to put a name to it, he'd almost call her expression speculative.

"That's not the strategy, though that's a good question. We can look into that part of this particular problem tomorrow, when we get back into the TARDIS. No, the new strategy is to find ourselves a vampire."

She arched an eyebrow. "What, you're going to bare your neck, walk outside, and cry out dinner's ready?"

"Might do." He tapped his chin thoughtfully before turning toward her. "Think that'd work?"

Rose just shook her head, but he could see a faint smile playing across her lips.

"After dinner of something full of garlic – I'm in favour of a bolognaise, myself – I'll head outside. See what I can see and try to find a vampire. You, however, are going to stay here." He looked at her sternly, trying to quell any protest on her part. Surprisingly, she didn't object.

"I could do with some more sleep. I'm pretty tired," she replied. "Don't do anything dangerous, though, Doctor. I don't want to have to come rescue you."

He assumed an affronted expression. "I never do anything dangerous. Well, sometimes I do, but it's generally for the best of reasons."

After dinner, which Rose had picked at, claiming not to be hungry, he'd slipped out into the night. He hadn't bared his neck, trusting that his mere presence would be enough to attract a vampire. By the time that he'd almost reached Millennium Centre on his walk, he suspected that he wouldn't find anything this particular evening. The city was strangely quiet, almost as if it were waiting for something.

A chill ran up his spine as an uneasy feeling filled him. Something was terribly wrong in Cardiff. Perhaps the TARDIS's emergency landing was planned by something or someone. Perhaps it, too, had something to do with the vampires.

However, it was useless speculation. He needed more facts. Well, what he really needed was to determine what government organisation had taken Evelyn. From that point on, finding the vampire nest should be easy. He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair, his pace increasing as he headed back to the bed and breakfast.

Though, if he had been targeted by someone or something, why hadn't they attacked him? He was alone, unarmed save for the sonic screwdriver, and what amounted to easy prey. Because…ah, yes. It was relatively common knowledge – a fact that generally annoyed him – that the best was to get to him was to…

Rose.

_Rose_! His fast walk turned to a run. He needed to see her, needed to make sure she was safe. The house had been closed up, windows and doors locked, before he'd left. He'd checked on her just before he'd left and she'd been sleeping easily. But he'd left her alone.

Oh, what had he been thinking?

The return journey to the bed and breakfast seemed to take an inordinately long amount of time. Despite his speed, the distance had never before seemed as far. He didn't care about finding a vampire. Not tonight. Not anymore. He'd reconsider his plans, factor Rose into them, keep her with him.

She had to be safe. She had to be.

The old Victorian house loomed out of the darkness, but the sight did little to reassure him. The home seemed vaguely ominous now. However, from what he could see, the doors and windows were still locked. Rose's bedroom was on the second floor, but in the back. He could walk around the manor and check from the outside, but he'd prefer to see her first.

He slid the key into the lock and opened the door, wincing as the old wood creaked in protest to the motion. The house was silent but for the slow and methodical ticking of a grandfather clock. Rose was fine, he tried to reassure himself. However, his fears would not be silenced until he could see her.

He climbed the steps quickly, but silently. There was nothing to indicate that there was anything wrong. Nothing at all.

There. Rose's bedroom. Nothing had changed. The door was still closed. The hallway was still silent. She was fine. She was safe. He slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The canopy cast a dark shadow over the bed as he swiftly made his way to the side. He had to see her. He had to…

A cool breeze caused the edges of the canopy to flutter gently and he turned toward the window, realising that it was open.

It hadn't been open before he'd left.

He turned back to the bed and he was certain that his hearts had stopped for a moment.

She wasn't there.

No, wait, that didn't fit. If she'd been bitten, they wouldn't've taken her immediately. They would've waited until she had fully turned. And if they'd killed her, they would've left the body.

Oh, oh no. No, no, no. He should've seen it. Should've known. All the signs. They were right there in front of him and he'd dismissed it. Thought that she hadn't been bitten because he hadn't seen any puncture wounds. He could see makeup – presumably something borrowed from Evelyn – on the counter.

He loved her, he cared about her, and he'd still missed the changes that should've been obvious. He missed her pallor. He missed her edginess around him and the way she eyed him speculatively. He'd passed it all off as sleep deprivation, as nothing to worry about, when he should've worried.

He should've _known_.

There was a reason Rose Tyler was gone. It was because she wasn't Rose Tyler. Not anymore. She'd gone to bed his companion.

She'd left a vampire.

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3: The Darkest Hour

**Chapter 3: The Darkest Hour**

His knuckles alternated between turning white and regaining their normal colour as he tightened and loosened his grip on the steering wheel. When he'd received the report from the field that the Doctor and Rose had been sighted entering the bed and breakfast, his first reaction was shock and anger. Of course the bastard was involved. Never failed, that.

And, now, he was going to confront him before the Time Lord left the hostel. Find out what he knew and then, if necessary, confine him until he left well enough alone. He could handle this on his own. Rather, Torchwood could handle this. They didn't need the Doctor's particular brand of help. Never had, never would.

"Jack, why don't you let me talk to him first?" Gwen asked, interrupting his thoughts. She'd insisted on coming along with him. Well, more like she'd opened the passenger side door and climbed in, daring him to object. Which he had, but she hadn't listened. She was rather good at that.

"No. This one's mine," he growled. He shouldn't take it out on her, he knew, but just knowing that he was going to see that bastard again was enough to bring out the worst in him.

"Fine, this one's yours, but you're not going up there alone." He could feel her steely gaze trained upon him, but he refused to acknowledge it. She could do as she wished. He knew that she'd try to stop him if he even attempted to kill the Time Lord, but he'd have to live with that.

Just as he'd had to live with the abandonment.

He pulled up in front of the bed and breakfast, shifting the car into park. Anger still burned within him and he truly couldn't tell what he'd do or say when he saw the Doctor. "See you in hell," he murmured, not caring if Gwen heard him or not, as he opened the door.

The walk to the front door seemed to take forever, though it was all his imagination. His hands clenched into fists as he reached the entrance and he pounded on the door, not truly caring how the wood rattled in its frame.

The door started to open, but he didn't give it enough time to open fully before he forced his way in. He had a moment to register the Doctor's astonished expression before he'd shoved the other man against the wall. "You fucking bastard," he snarled.

"Jack!" the Doctor exclaimed, his astonishment fading to confusion. "You're alive!"

He allowed himself a moment to wonder at his words before he replied, "No thanks to you."

"Jack, let him go." Gwen, he identified absently.

"Oh, no. I'm not letting him go anywhere. He has some questions that he needs to answer first." He didn't turn toward her when he responded to Gwen. Instead, he kept his burning gaze on the Time Lord. "The Doctor. You just specialise in coming in and cocking everything up, don't you? You just come in, try to take over, butting in where you're not welcomed…"

"The vampires," the Doctor said.

He smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant expression. "The vampires," he confirmed. "We're handling it. We don't need you. I want you out of my town."

"I can't do that."

"Yes, you can," he corrected. "Just get Rose and I'll take you-"

"_I said I can't do that_!" the Doctor shouted and, in one deceptively simple movement, the other man managed to free himself from his grip. "Jack, they've got Rose."

Rose.

Oh, no. Hell no. No, no, no.

"You never could take care of her," he growled, his hand curling into a fist. The fucking bastard! Some Time Lord, he'd just let the vampires take her. Just let her, obviously, get turned. He was going to kill him.

"Oh-ho! And you always could?" the Doctor asked through gritted teeth.

The sharpness of that remark cut through him and he swung...

Only to be met by Gwen's hand. She was strong, he had to give her that. Then again, she'd have to be to handle some of the criminals she'd dealt with while she was still with homicide.

Gwen glared at him, her hand clenched around his fist, blocking his view of the Doctor. "That's enough! Out of both of you! I don't give a damn about whatever history there is between you – it doesn't fucking matter! What matters is stopping the vampires before more innocent lives are taken." She turned her deadly look upon the Doctor as well before returning her attention to him, nodding toward the sitting room. "So sit down, shut it, and let's pool our resources!"

He opened his mouth to protest, but she squeezed her hand around his fist and pointed a warning finger at him. "Don't."

She continued, "I'm going to let go of your fist, Jack. Don't try anything, got it?" She waited for his answering nod before she looked expectantly at the Doctor who, surprisingly, echoed his gesture.

Gwen let him go and he rubbed his hand ruefully. He should've known better. He wasn't here to kill the Time Lord. Well, he was, but that could wait. Gwen was right. And if Rose was in danger, it was only right that he let the Doctor take part in some small measure. Once she was safe, though, all bets were off.

He let her lead them into the sitting room, but he made certain that he took the best chair. Namely, the only one that offered him a full view of the entire room and the Doctor. "Why don't you tell us what you know about the vampires?"

The Doctor leaned back into his chair, seemingly unconcerned by his hostile audience. Well, he was the only truly hostile one. "An interrogation? Oh, I love interrogations. Where's the bright white light? The hard wood chair? The two-way mirror? Or, oh! The questions about name, rank, and serial number? Oh, wait, that's just in prisoner of war movies."

The other man's expression shifted from nonchalance to focusing his full attention upon him. He'd forgotten how disconcerting that could be. "Let me tell you how this is going to work, Jack. I'm going to be very, very calm about this. Do you understand? You're going to tell me everything you know about the vampires. Starting with how you know about them, what government – and I use that term loosely - agency you represent, and whether or not you're going to help me find Rose."

Gwen had apparently decided to trust the Doctor, despite everything. Despite, even, Torchwood's primary goal to protect the United Kingdom from the Time Lord's interference. Then again, that particular credo had never been number one on his priority list either. He wanted the Doctor for himself. After all, the bastard had left him behind and, now, he'd lost Rose. That was enough for him.

"My name's Gwen Cooper. You apparently already know Jack. We're agents from the Torchwood Institute. The vampire case was brought to our attention as it falls under our jurisdiction. We want to stop them, study them. Kill them, if necessary. But their preying upon the populace of Cardiff must stop," Gwen said.

"Study them?" the Doctor scoffed. "Study them! You can't study them. They just want to kill, to feed. And you'd essentially be baring your necks to them."

Same old, same old. Damn him, anyway. "Oh, there you go again. The Doctor, lording himself over the human race. Flaunting your knowledge over the rest of us. Well guess what, Doc, you're not always here. You leave messes behind. And that's what we're here to fix."

The Doctor seemed taken aback. "Well, yes. I have been negligent in the past, but that's not what's important. What's important is that the vampires have got Rose, and nothing on this planet can stop me from saving her."

"Which," Gwen said, emphasising the word as she looked between the two of them, "is why sharing information is important. So, vampires. All we know are the legends. Can't go out in the sunlight, can be killed by a wooden stake to the heart, they can fly or turn into bats, and garlic, crosses and bibles keep them at bay."

"Some of that's correct. Though any type of material would do. Silver stakes, iron or wooden ones--anything to destroy the heart, the cardiovascular system. Severing the neck and removing the head also works. That will kill a vampire. Sunlight causes them to burst into flames. Garlic is a vampire allergen. They can fly, turn into a gaseous state, and turn into bat-like creatures. But the most important fact is that faith, any type of faith, keeps them away." The Time Lord stood, pacing about the room as he described what he knew. He paused, turning toward them. "Remember that. Any type of faith. Religious or otherwise as long as you believe in it strongly enough."

That matched both the legends and the stories that he'd heard when he was a novice at the Time Agency Academy. However, everything that he knew indicated that there was no way of reversing the change. Once one was bitten, one became a vampire, or died. "Is there a way to save Rose?"

The Doctor sighed, leaning against the wall. "A vampire only truly becomes a vampire on the first full moon after they've been bitten. Which means we have three days."

"Three days to do what?" Gwen asked. "Pray for a miracle?"

He had to grudgingly admit to himself that the Doctor's arrival generally was the miracle.

"No," the Doctor corrected. "To find the vampires, stop them, and rescue Rose. And, to do that, we need to start with information. Lots and lots of information."

The Time Lord folded his arms before himself and grinned. "So, why don't you tell me everything else you know?"

* * *

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Jack Harkness had died. He'd _heard_ him die. And yet impossibly, unbelievably, he was sitting in front of him.

The former Time Agent should be dead. Had to be dead. What could've...

Rose. No, not _Rose_. Bad Wolf.

Oh. He remembered her saying something about bringing life. That must've been what she'd meant. And of course she would've saved Jack. She loved him. Just as he had. But Jack was supposed to be dead. He knew that fact. Could see the eddies and currents of time around him.

He was an anomaly. An impossibility. Rose, as Bad Wolf, had brought him back to life but she hadn't dealt with the hole in Time that it'd left behind. She'd merely bandaged the problem, but it was still there.

Jack was supposed to be another name to follow with Adric, Katarina, Sarah Kingdom, and Roz. Another companion who'd given his life for a greater cause. However, he was alive.

And he couldn't find it within himself to correct the error.

He'd only been half-listening to Gwen's speech, relegating a minor portion of his mind to organising and characterising the information while the majority dealt with the anomaly of Jack's existence. It was obvious now of why Jack was angry with him.

The haze of an oncoming regeneration had made him miss what must've happened. He'd saved Rose's life, losing his in the process, but he'd also left Jack behind. A man who shouldn't exist, but did.

Another weight for his already encumbered soul.

He firmly reminded himself that it had been a characteristic of his previous regeneration to dwell in his guilt. He was a new man, a new new Doctor.

_Oh, Rose._

Enough. He directed his attention to Gwen. "I'll need to see your files and the pictures of the crime scenes."

"They're back at the Hub," Jack replied in her stead, standing. "We'll have to go back there."

"Before we go, is Torchwood the 'security services' that took Evelyn and her niece into 'protective custody'?" he asked, feeling slightly guilty for not inquiring earlier.

Gwen nodded. "Yes. We're studying Victoria Smythe in the hopes of being able to prevent the spread of vampirism. We might be able to come up with a cure. Evelyn is merely in our custody for observation. We don't know if she's been bitten."

He shook his head. Finding a cure was impossible. Time Lords had tried, but he wouldn't dash all of their hopes. It was possible that they, with their far more simplistic science, might find an avenue that his people hadn't considered. Sometimes the simplest solution was the best. "Evelyn wasn't bitten."

Jack arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

He opened his mouth to reply in the affirmative, but he recalled that Evelyn had been wearing her customary heavy orange cardigan. The cardigan had covered her neck. "No."

"Back to the Hub, then," Gwen said, looking at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Doctor."

He smiled faintly in acknowledgement. There was nothing that he could say in response. That only increased his urgent need of finding the vampires and rescuing Rose. If Evelyn had been turned, that was his only recourse. He had to save them both.

The journey to the Hub was spent in silence. He'd faced vampires several times in his past incarnations. However, the one that was foremost in his mind was the last time that one of his companions had been turned. He'd managed to both track the vampires' movements through the air – at least until they'd resorted to sub-orbital hops – and create a concentrated garlic pill for protection. The protection was finite, of course, but it'd helped.

He should still have that information in the TARDIS. The TARDIS! Oh, of course. The forty-eight hours were almost up. He could return to his ship at any time. And, once there, he'd be able to do far more than he could at the moment. Provided that Jack and Gwen were willing to let him go.

Something told him that there was more to this Torchwood Institute than appearances said. Especially given that it seemed that this particular agency not only held the name of the same estate where he'd encountered Queen Victoria but it performed the same or similar tasks to UNIT. Admittedly, UNIT had been devastated in the Slitheen attack - most of their alien experts had been killed – however, the fact remained.

Torchwood seemed to be essentially UNIT, only something purely British.

Surprisingly enough, this Hub was apparently located near Millennium Centre. He caught a glimpse of the familiar and comforting blue shape of his ship just before they went into a well-concealed underground parking garage.

"Doctor, stick with us at all times," Jack said, turning around once he'd parked the car. He was surprised to see genuine concern in the other man's eyes. "The Hub can be a dangerous place."

For some reason, he suspected that the danger was his alone. Just what was Torchwood's purpose? "Jack, what does Torchwood do?"

"It finds and adapts alien tech for the use of the British government. And protects the United Kingdom's shores from alien or unexplained phenomena," Gwen summarised.

He frowned. He wanted to object to the idea of adapting alien technology for human use, especially since most humans would be unable to use it wisely. He bit his tongue. There'd be time enough for objections later. After he used their information and resources to save Rose.

_I'm coming, Rose._

After agreeing to remain close to his escorts, he followed them into the so-called Hub. Alien technology, holographic projections, and other anachronistic details filled the two-story room. Torchwood was apparently situated directly underneath the Millennium Centre fountain as its unmistakable base projected from the first floor of the Hub up to the roof. However, he couldn't gawp for long as both Jack and Gwen were headed for one of the offices on the second level.

"Jack!" a rather harried looking individual ran up to them. "Thank God you're back. That woman – the older one? She's been givin' us hell. Keeps demanding to see her niece or else someone in charge, preferably both, and as soon as possible."

He chuckled quietly. Yes, that definitely sounded like Evelyn.

Jack sighed. "I'll deal with her shortly, Chris. Until then, initiate Project Twilight."

The newly identified Chris nodded, surprised. "Of course." A moment later, the man was gone.

"Project Twilight?" he asked.

"You'll see," Jack replied, a small smile playing across his lips.

Why didn't that reassure him?

* * *

Jack had noted the curious looks cast their way as they crossed the Hub, but his people were too professional to ask any questions. That was good. Excellent even, since that meant he wouldn't have to tell any lies. Despite everything that had happened between them, the distance and the anger, he still wanted to protect the Doctor. From Torchwood and even from himself.

Besides, he could see what losing Rose had done to him. This Doctor was only a smidgeon better than the previous incarnation at hiding his anguish, but for those who knew him or had known him, it was as plain as day.

The Doctor still loved her; that much was obvious. And, knowing him, he probably hadn't said anything to her of his feelings, trusting that she already knew. Clever, stupid bastard.

However, he kept his thoughts to himself as he slid the manila folder across his desk toward the Time Lord. "That's everything we have. Crime scene photos, reports, and eye-witness accounts. From what we've been able to gather, the vampires aren't picky as to whom they attack. Nothing links their victims beyond their being alone at the time of their attack. For those attacks that occurred inside homes, we believe that victims invited their attackers inside. I'm not sure how much of that is fact or not, but the common belief is that a vampire cannot enter a home without invitation."

The Doctor nodded as he idly flipped through the contents of the folder. "That's true. Though implicit invitations work as well. Vampires are master manipulators, able to influence the subconscious mind through hypnotism. A strong will is necessary to defeat that particular ability."

He filed that information away in his mind. "The attacks have been all across the city, nothing common there. Though, if Rose was attacked at the same location as Victoria Smythe, that's the first case where we've had two vampire bites in the same place. If permission to enter a home is given once, is that permission permanent?"

The Doctor nodded, looking as if he were kicking himself for not realising that fact at the time. Knowing him, he was already wallowing in guilt. "Yes, until the house changes owners."

"Stop it, Doctor," he said, not unkindly. "Rose's attack wasn't your fault. How were you to have known?"

The Time Lord shook his head in denial. "The clues were right in front of me."

"So what? So you missed the clues. Happens to the best of us. But don't worry, we'll save her. Promise." He truly hoped that his words weren't as hollow as he felt they might be. He stole a quick glance at his watch, happy to see that night had already fallen outside. With Project Twilight initiated, hopefully they'd get a nibble soon. Otherwise, he wondered how they'd be able to find the vampire nest without losing any more innocent lives.

The Doctor visibly brightened for a moment, as if a new thought had occurred to him. "I might be able to track the vampires using the sensors on the TARDIS. If not, I can at least call up the details on the concentrated garlic pills that I've used before to protect myself and my companions. It should help, at least."

It was tempting, yes, but he didn't want to let the Doctor out of his sight. Not because of Torchwood, but because he was afraid of what risks he might take to get Rose back. "We can go to the TARDIS shortly, but first I'd like you to remember as much as you can about those garlic pills. We might be able to synthesize something here."

"Jack..."

He held up his hand to quell the Doctor's inevitable protest. "Please. I want to protect my people."

"Okay," the Time Lord allowed, before he leaned forward upon the desk. "What's Project Twilight?"

He felt uncomfortably like his office had turned into an interrogation room. He deliberately ignored the question. "If we get results, I'll tell you whatever you'd like to know. Now, Gwen, if you could take the Doctor down to Toshiko? See if there's someone she can spare to make his garlic pills?"

Gwen nodded. "Sure. Right this way, Doctor."

Though he didn't look happy about the dismissal, the Time Lord followed Gwen out of the room.

Now he had to deal with Evelyn and see if he could calm her down. Something warned him, however, that it wouldn't be that easy. Just another headache in a sea of them. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He wasn't certain how long he was lost in his thoughts when the sharp ring of his telephone startled him out of his reverie. He fumbled for the receiver as the ring seemed to gain in urgency. "Yeah?" he asked once he'd picked up the phone.

"Sir, we've got a nibble," the voice of one of his field agents replied. "Twilight has been successful."

A fierce grin crossed his face at the revelation. "Bring 'em in, then."

"Roger," the field agent replied and hung up the phone.

Discarding his initial plan of seeing to Evelyn Smythe, he judged the latest news worthy enough to reveal Twilight's purpose to the Doctor. Sure, the Time Lord might object on principle, but the results were what mattered. Especially if it meant finding Rose.

He pushed away from the desk and stood, intending to follow after Gwen and the Doctor, when a sudden commotion outside caught his attention. Quickly crossing the room, he stepped into the main Hub. And paused in shock.

Someone had apparently collapsed on the ground level. The body was surrounded by people, but what glimpse he had between the shifting agents revealed what looked suspiciously like a pin-striped suit.

He darted down the stairs to the centre of the uproar. "Move it!" he ordered, unrepentantly shoving his way through the obstruction.

Gwen looked up at him from the floor, crouched next to the unconscious form of the Doctor. "He just said 'Bad Wolf' and collapsed. Jack, what's wrong?"

Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach as he slowly shook his head. "I don't know."

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4: Bad Wolf Rising

**Chapter 4: Bad Wolf Rising**

Time stretched from minutes to hours as he waited impatiently at his one-time friend's side. Jack'd refused to leave him, even though the result of Project Twilight was waiting for him in one of their holding cells. He didn't want someone from Torchwood discovering the Doctor's alien nature, let alone discovering exactly _who_ he was. Though he might have almost absolute power over the Cardiff branch of Torchwood, he had no desire to have someone drop the hint to London that the renegade Time Lord was within their grasp.

The Doctor's expression was fluid as he slept, almost as if he were chasing demons in his mind. A few times he was certain that he'd seen the man mouth Rose's name before he turned restlessly in the bed, his face revealing a bone-deep anguish. What, he wondered, did the Time Lord dream? And what exactly was 'Bad Wolf'? The words alone were enough to send a chill through him. He remembered the last time he'd heard them, when the Doctor had said something about those words following him through time. However, the Doctor had later dismissed it as nothing. So what was it about 'Bad Wolf' that had caused his friend's collapse? Or was there even a relation?

He sank into the hard-backed chair next to the Doctor's bedside with a weary sigh. What was he doing? He'd spent so much time so angry with the Time Lord and now, here he was. Waiting impatiently by his side for him to wake. It was almost a replay of his life before. No longer a con man or adversary, but a friend. A comrade. A man in love.

He sighed again as he rubbed his eyes, wishing that he could dismiss his feelings as easily as he thought he once had. Anger could hide so much, he'd learned. How does one fall out of love? With the Doctor – an infuriating, enigmatic man who could hide so much behind his shuttered eyes. With Rose… _Oh, Rose._

No. He'd find her and save her. He refused to believe in any other outcome.

"Doctor, wake up. Please…" The words were involuntarily spoken, but they produced a more obvious movement from the Time Lord. "Doctor?" he asked, hopefully.

"Bad Wolf," the other man breathed and lapsed back into unconsciousness.

The chair creaked as he leaned back into it, pinching the bridge of his nose. If his friend didn't wake soon, he'd have no choice. No option. He'd have to inspect the results of Twilight and deal with Evelyn Smythe. And, then, he'd have to save Rose and Cardiff without the Doctor's help.

Though he'd saved the world before without the Time Lord's aide, this time it seemed a rather daunting task.

"Any change?" Gwen asked as she walked into the guest room that he'd commandeered.

He shook his head sadly. "Not yet. Just more of the same. I thought I heard him say 'Rose' and 'Bad Wolf' but there's been no sign that he's about to wake."

"Chris's been asking when you're coming down," Gwen said, revealing her purpose in disturbing him.

A sigh escaped through his lips as he shook his head. "Has our newest 'guest' been giving us trouble?"

"That's the funny thing. Our guest's been very helpful. But he's insisting upon speaking to someone in charge for certain 'guarantees'."

He blinked. "Guarantees?" he repeated the word dubiously.

Gwen nodded. "Exactly. I think you need to come down and see this one. Keeps asking us to save him from 'her'. Not sure who _she_ is, but our guest's obviously frightened of her."

"Bad Wolf," the Doctor murmured, almost in response to Gwen's words.

"Doctor? Are you back with us again?" he asked, reaching out to touch the other man's arm.

No answer. Not even a twitch.

He sighed again. "Right. I'll come and see what our guest has to say. Can you stay here for a bit? Just until I get back?" He didn't want the Doctor waking alone. At least a somewhat familiar face should reassure him. Though he wondered why he felt the other man needed such reassurance. Damnit, he'd thought that he was over this. Over him.

Guess it turned out that he was a better con man than he thought if he could con himself for this long.

Gwen nodded. "Of course."

Shooting her a thankful smile, he stood and turned toward the door. Pausing, he looked back at her. "If he wakes up before I get back, bring him to me. I think he'd be interested in Twilight's results."

"You sure?" she asked, glancing at the prone figure on the bed.

He nodded. "Yes."

The response was apparently enough for her as she turned her attention back to the Doctor. With one last glance at the Time Lord, he left the room. He had work to do.

* * *

Time.

It changed around him, swirling in patterns that it had no business attempting. The future was being rewritten by a skilled hand, assuming shapes and formats that it shouldn't. A timeline was erased, wiped away without care for the effects upon the rest of the continuum. Another and another were gone.

His senses screamed, threatening to send him back into the blessed unconsciousness that had been his only recourse to survive the violent alterations. However, he hung on grimly, desperate to determine just what had gone so terribly wrong.

_I see you._

The voice was playful, familiar, but an underlying malevolence disturbed him. The words played about his unconscious mind, toying with those memories and senses that he could not protect quickly enough.

'Who are you?' he wanted to ask, but he could not force the words to shape themselves in his mind. His telepathic pathways were too disused, too raw from the impact of the temporal storm, to do so properly.

_You know who I am._

He did. Oh, no, he did, and the word was just on the tip of his tongue, the edge of his mind. If he could only say it, only speak the word, he could banish the voice from his mind. One word. Just one.

"Rose," he said and opened his eyes.

"Doctor?" A slightly familiar voice said and he turned his head toward the source of the sound. Gwen, he identified absently.

"What am I doing on this bed?" he asked once he'd identified what he was lying upon. There was something important he had to say, or do. Wasn't there? He just couldn't remember. It was there, just on the tip of his...

"You collapsed," she replied. "We were on our way to see Toshiko, but you suddenly pressed both of your hands to the side of your head, collapsed, murmured 'Bad Wolf' and lapsed into unconsciousness."

Bad Wolf.

_Rose._

He sat up quickly, bracing himself as a wave of nausea swept through him. "How long have I been unconscious?" What if it'd been days? What if the deadline had been passed, and Rose – _oh, Rose_ – was permanently changed?

Gwen reached out to steady him, holding his arm tightly. "Careful. You've been unconscious for two hours." Her words caused his earlier fears to dissipate.

"I'm fine," he said as he eased out of her grip.

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't repeat her earlier gesture. "Are you sure you're all right?"

He smiled somewhat faintly. "I'm always all right." _Liar_, he accused himself.

She seemed to decide to change tack. "Jack wanted me to bring you to him once you were awake. There's someone he wants you to meet."

What he truly wanted to do was to find Rose. But he didn't have enough information to do so, not yet. He was willing to follow Gwen's suggestion for now. "Okay."

They headed into what seemed to be the bowels of the Hub. He caught glimpses of what looked to be a large hanger full of alien artefacts and what seemed to be a Triskellian Star Chaser, but the full view was obscured by carefully arranged sheets of plastic. "Lots of construction," he observed, hoping to draw more information out of his companion.

Gwen nodded. "Yes, there is." However, she didn't elaborate.

Frowning, he followed her into a narrow corridor with doors situated to either side. She came to a stop beside one of the unmarked entrances and rested her hand upon the knob.

"Our guest is in this room. Whatever you do, don't approach him. He's restrained, but he got a little…bite-y," she cautioned and opened the door.

Inside, he could see Jack talking to a man tied to a chair. The captive wore a stained and slightly bloodied denim jacket, a white t-shirt, and a ratty pair of jeans. Straps were around his torso, his legs, his wrists and arms, and around his neck, causing his clothing to bulge strangely at the edges of the leather. He felt slightly confused as he walked in, but the confusion swiftly faded as he spotted the man's sharply pointed canines.

"Listen," the vampire began, his eyes wide and rolling. "I'll tell you anything you want to know, okay? Just as long as you kill _that_ one."

That wasn't right. He knew the expression upon the creature's face easily, but it didn't make sense. It was fear. But, even held captive, vampires were not known to show any such emotion. It was an unforgivable weakness.

"Which one?" Jack asked.

"I told Joxer, I did. I said he shouldn't turn her. Told him that he should just suck her dry like we planned. I said that there was something off about her. Didn't matter that she was pretty. Oh, no. Joxer always had a thing for blondes. And now look what's happened."

"What happened?" he asked, interrupting the interrogation as he purposefully walked to Jack's side.

"She's killed us! Well, killed anyone who opposed her. She was new. That isn't how it's supposed to work. New vamps shouldn't be able to just take over like that, but she's too powerful. Too strange. Never seen anything like it, actually. And I've been a vamp for two hundred years. She's just surrounded by this golden light, but it doesn't burn. It should burn us, but it doesn't. Should burn her, but it can't."

No. Oh, no. No, no, no. A fearful certainty filled him as he remembered his dream. It wasn't a dream at all. It was a nightmare.

"Bad-" he began.

The vampire cut him off. "Don't say it. Please, don't. Don't even think it. It just attracts _her_ attention."

"Where's your nest?" Jack asked.

He sensed Time shift again and felt the icy tendrils of golden energy reach into the room.

The vampire seemed to sense it, too, as he began to pull on his bindings. "You have to save us!"

"Your nest!" Jack demanded, but he could tell that the other man could see it too. A golden light started at the floor, surrounding the vampire's feet.

"Warehouse, by the docks. NO! I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry, Bad Wolf. I didn't mean-" The vampire's words cut off into a scream of agony as the energy enveloped him.

He grabbed Jack's arm, pulling him away from the vampire. "Don't touch him!" he ordered, shooting a warning glance at Gwen.

Not again. Please, not again. He'd seen this before. Last time, it'd burned her. Threatened to destroy her as it was destroying him now.

Molecule by molecule, atom by atom, the vampire separated into dust. And he knew. Oh, no, he knew.

"What the hell was that?" the former Time Agent demanded.

"Rose," he replied in a hollow voice.

"Say what?" Jack asked, his eyes wide.

* * *

What on Earth was the Doctor talking about? Rose couldn't've done whatever the hell it was that happened to the vampire. Right?

"What do you remember about Satellite Five?" the Doctor asked. The question seemed rather random, but its impact upon him was obvious.

Satellite Five. His hands automatically clenched into fists at the sound of those two words. The Game Station. What did he remember? Somehow, he managed to staunch the bitter reply that lingered upon his lips.

He remembered the sound of the TARDIS's engines as it dematerialised. He remembered watching the only place that had ever been a home to him – because of the Doctor and Rose - leave him behind. He remembered the days spent on the station, searching through the remains of the Big Brother houses for food. He remembered his desperate attempts to cannibalise the main controls of the station to fashion a rudimentary communication device to try and contact the planet surface. He remembered how it felt when he realised that no one was going to come. He'd finally had to use the extrapolator to create a method of escape. However, his escape method failed. He knew that he was going to die but, instead, he was rescued by a friendly pair of Methrasolines.

What did he remember? "Enough," he finally replied.

A sharp intake of breath revealed that Gwen was still in the room. He'd revealed too much about himself in just his reaction to the words, he knew. However, he found that he didn't mind. Not anymore. He was tired of running.

"Do you remember what happened to the Daleks?" The Doctor apparently hadn't missed a nuance of his response. He could see that the other man felt guilty.

Good.

He shook his head. "No, I don't. Last thing I remember with the Daleks was one shooting me..." He'd died and then, impossibly, lived again.

The Time Lord couldn't entirely hide his wince, as if something about his words affected him. "Rose happened, Jack. She did something so brave and so stupid..." The Doctor shook his head, drawing in a bracing breath. "She looked into the Heart of the TARDIS. The Vortex filled her, became her. She used that power to save me – save you, too. She caused the Daleks to turn to dust, exactly like she did with the vampire. She must've brought you back to life, too."

Oh, god. He _remembered_. He remembered three words that had brought him back from the brink. Three tiny words.

_I bring life._

It was Rose. _Rose_ had saved him, but at what cost?

"The power was killing her," the Doctor continued, meeting his gaze. "Her tiny human brain couldn't contain that much power, so I saved her just like she saved me. I pulled out the Vortex and put it back where it belonged. She collapsed and I carried her into the TARDIS. I had to get us away from the Satellite, as quickly as possible since I was starting to regenerate. She woke a few moments after I'd sent us into the Vortex and she couldn't remember what had happened. I thought it was better that way. She lived and that was what was most important."

He staggered, bracing himself against the wall. "But if you took the Vortex from her, what was that?" He gestured toward the now empty chair.

The Doctor's expression turned grave. "That was the Bad Wolf. She assumed that name, created herself, when she took on the Vortex. I can only assume that I must've missed some small measure of the energy when I removed it from her. It must've interacted with the vampire virus..."

That was when the full impact of the revelations occurred to him. Rose Tyler had almost died because of the Vortex. However, now, because of the vampire virus, she wouldn't. She was already dead. She had all of space and time at her fingertips. It was amazing that she'd only chosen to remove a single threat to her continued existence and not the Doctor.

Not himself.

"What can she do with that power, Doctor?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Anything she wants. Everything she wants. She has the power of life and death. The power to erase species from time. Anything at all."

Their goal of finding the vampire nest had just gained a new urgency. They had the name of the vampire that had turned her, but if he were in her shoes, he'd secret that one away, inaccessible, until the next full moon.

The Doctor suddenly stumbled, his face ashen. "Oh no," he whispered.

Alarms began to ring around the Hub and he darted to the communications panel in the wall. Pressing the talk button, he snapped, "Report!"

Toshiko's frantic voice came through the speaker. "Jack! Thank god, we've got a problem. Something's happened to the moon. It's like we've skipped ahead several days. The moon's phase has changed. It's full."

Oh, no. He turned back to the Time Lord.

"She knew what we were planning," the Doctor said, his expression stricken. "So she did the only thing she could do. She accelerated time."

She was a vampire now. Truly a vampire. They'd lost her. Oh, god, they'd lost her. Which meant that there was only one choice. To save the Earth and the rest of the universe, he could do only one thing.

That choice would kill him as surely as it would the Doctor. However, he had to say it. Had to order it.

"There's no choice," he said in a grim voice. "We have to kill Rose."

_To be continued..._


	5. Chapter 5: The Hunt

**Chapter 5: The Hunt**

The fabric of the space-time continuum was in tatters. He could feel it, see it if he closed his eyes. Her careless toying with time was causing everything to fall apart. If she wasn't stopped, it would mean the end of everything.

But to kill her?

No! There had to be another way. He had to be able to save her. Somehow, someway, there had to be something he could do. There must be! He wouldn't even consider any other option. Couldn't consider it. She wasn't dead. He could save her.

"No!" he said, shaking his head violently. "We can't kill her." He silently cursed how his voice broke over the last two words.

Jack looked sympathetic, almost as if he felt the same way. But how could he? "Doctor, there is no other way. You said it yourself. The only way to reverse the change is to kill the vampire that bit her before the next full moon. Rose accelerated time. The change is permanent. The Rose we knew and" - Jack almost stumbled over the next word. - "loved is gone. She's dead, Doctor."

She wasn't dead. She wasn't! "She's not!" He could go back to the TARDIS, jump back three days... No. That wouldn't work. He couldn't do that. If he even tried, the Reapers would come and wipe out the timeline. He would risk a paradox.

Something in his expression must've decided the other man because he suddenly found himself in Jack's rough embrace. "I'm sorry, Doctor."

It felt as if his hearts had shattered inside him, but he managed to hold himself together. He wouldn't let this break him. He couldn't. He had work to do. However, he allowed himself a moment to hold onto Jack, to be nothing more than a grieving man. He'd lost Rose. His Rose. But he would be all right.

He was always all right.

He gently disengaged himself from the hug, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks, Jack," he said, for a moment letting his gratitude show before that, too, was hidden behind a mask. "We need to find the nest and quickly. I don't know if the typical means of destroying vampires will work on the Bad Wolf." It was easier, somehow, not to think of her in terms of Rose – _oh, Rose_ – but in terms of what she'd become. What she was now rather than what she'd been. "However, we must try."

Jack nodded, gesturing toward Gwen. "Get over to Toshiko, tell her that her work has gained a new urgency and get her whatever she needs."

Without bothering to acknowledge Jack's orders beyond a brief nod, Gwen darted through the doors. What, he wondered, was Toshiko working on? No, that didn't matter. There were far more pressing matters that needed to be addressed.

_Oh, Rose._

He knew what he'd do if they were dealing with normal, run of the mill vampires. Wooden stakes, garlic pills, and lots of faith would help. However, how could he be certain that it would work on someone who could control the power of the Vortex?

"C'mon, Doctor," Jack said, gesturing toward the door. "We can raid the armoury for anything that might be useful."

He suddenly got the impression that Jack had no intention of letting him face the Bad Wolf alone. Perhaps he should be thankful for that. He wasn't certain how he'd react to the sight of the woman he...

_What use are emotions if you will not save the woman you love?_

The Dalek's words had never before seemed so appropriate. He shook himself out of his contemplations. Fine. Jack could come along. "Docks, docks, docks. Why are directions always so vague? Warehouse. By the docks. That certainly narrows things down."

Jack frowned as they walked out of the room and down the corridor. "What're typical vampire habitats? Do they have a preferred type of location? Is the scenery important?"

He smiled slightly, feeling a stirring of pride within him at the questions. "Depends on their preferred style, really. Some vampires are rather fond of Bella Legosi and adopt the typical gothic battlements, decrepit castles, and dark, dank locations of his films. Some prefer graveyard crypts. Others prefer modern conveniences and prefer to stay within the city, near their food source, but in basements. Darkness is their ally. Any location that can stay dark, out of the sunlight, is an appropriate location."

The former Time Agent nodded thoughtfully. "It's likely that the warehouse we're looking for has been abandoned for, at the very least, a couple of months prior to when the attacks started."

Abandoned warehouses on the docks. He wanted to turn to Rose, make some sort of comment about the location, but he realised a moment later that he couldn't. She wasn't there. And probably wouldn't be there ever again.

What would he tell her mother? 'Sorry, Jackie, your daughter's dead. Well, not really, but you can't see her. She might try to bite you and that's never good.' Last time, it'd just been a slap. This time, he was certain, he'd be lucky to escape after losing a single regeneration. Then again, that was assuming he just didn't let her...

No.

He firmly ordered himself to pay attention to the current problem. He'd deal with Jackie later. Much later, really.

"So, choose your weapon," Jack said as he opened the double-doors just ahead of them.

He was surprised to find that they'd already reached the armoury. He'd been lost in his thoughts for longer than he'd realised.

The room was stacked with almost every type of weapon that had ever been conceived. Swords, katanas, staff weapons, spears, crossbows, shurikens, bows and arrows, and several alien weapons were arranged by type and use. He walked to the crossbows and selected one and several wooden bolts. If necessary, he could use the arrows as hand-held weapons.

Anything to get to...

No. She was gone.

Jack selected a similar weapon and slid a knife into a sheath at his waist. "We keep a list of the warehouses located near the wharf. You never know when one might be useful after all."

He could easily imagine that they would. Everything that he'd seen so far at Torchwood indicated that it was a highly influential and well-connected organisation. It was easy to believe that they would have some need for an abandoned warehouse or two to hide or otherwise disguise their activities.

UNIT had done something similar once or twice while he was still technically in their employ. Speaking of... "Where does UNIT fit into Torchwood?" he asked, suspecting that he already knew the answer.

"It doesn't," Jack replied. "This is a purely British operation." He didn't elaborate. Then again, he wasn't expecting the former Time Agent to do anything of the sort.

"Ah." Very interesting. He made a mental note to do some research into the purpose behind Torchwood sometime. That would have to wait.

Jack led the way out of the armoury once he'd directed Torchwood personnel to arm themselves in a similar manner should they leave the premises. "Better to be safe than sorry," he'd said in response to his questioning look.

He wasn't planning on leading a troop into the vampire nest. Besides, a typical nest should only have ten to twenty vampires. A city the size of Cardiff couldn't support more than that without attracting attention. Then again, judging by the number of attacks in the past few months, that wasn't something these particular vampires concerned themselves with.

However, considering what Bad Wolf was apparently doing, it was possible that they would have a smaller number of vampires to deal with. That would make things easy. Simple. Besides, he didn't need any more deaths on his conscience.

* * *

Needles and haystacks dominated his thoughts as he flipped through the lists of warehouses. Someone had thoughtfully – well, he amended, not so thoughtfully – arranged the lists alphabetically and by type. A red dot was placed next to those facilities that had gone bankrupt along with a date. He'd never realised just how many warehouses were in the Cardiff area. The Doctor and he had to read through the lists, determine if it'd been abandoned, what the address of each warehouse was, and then discard it if it wasn't situated near the docks. 

It was a tedious task.

"Ha! Found one," the Doctor exclaimed, pulling out the pertinent list and sliding it across the table toward him. "Gerard & Co. The warehouse was one of their processing facilities for raw meat. According to this" - he tapped the sheet of paper. - "the warehouse has been abandoned for approximately six months."

That was definitely promising. However, there were five other such warehouses that they'd already found. They had a search ahead of them. And, when they found the right location, they would have a fight on their hands.

_I'm so sorry, Rose._

He worried, though, just what having to kill Rose would do to the Doctor. The Time Lord was already breaking – he could see it in the new lines on the other man's face, the way he tilted his head, and the mask that was his current expression.

But he'd be damned if he was going to lose him too. Which meant that he'd have to be the one to pull the trigger. He was the one who would have to kill Rose. Never mind how it'd affect him, he had to spare the Doctor that particular pain. It'd be another layer of guilt on his conscience, but better him than the Time Lord. He loved Rose enough to let her go because Rose Tyler was dead. She'd died with the rise of the full moon.

He didn't want a large team with them. Much as he trusted his people, he didn't want them to see what would undoubtedly reveal the Doctor's true nature and the power of the Vortex. He didn't fancy having to explain to London just what he was thinking. Mostly because London's director was a manipulative woman who would do anything to get ahead of the game. No matter the cost.

Which meant it was down to the two of them as the point. The Doctor and Jack versus the Bad Wolf. It was almost a fair fight.

They could have at least one person stationed in the car for a quick getaway and as backup, if needed. That person would just have to guard against a vampire attack. A crossbow, enough ammunition, and lots of garlic should do the trick. Faith, too. But the only person he trusted well enough to guard their backs was Gwen.

He'd hoped that he could shelter her from this, but it was not to be. "I'll make the arrangements for a car and some backup."

The Doctor looked like he was about to object, but something seemed to change his mind. He was actually surprised that the Time Lord hadn't suggested using the TARDIS instead, yet he suspected that that wouldn't be a clever choice. If Rose could manipulate the space-time Vortex, there was no guarantee that she'd let them land anywhere near to her in space or in time.

Best to stick with mortal means of transportation. It took only a few short minutes to arrange for the car and to ask Gwen to come with them. She had no news on the Toshiko front to share, but he hadn't expected any. It was too soon for that, but there was always hope.

He led the Doctor back to the car park and, when they got there, he found that Gwen had already claimed one of the large black SUVs that Torchwood had designated as their field vehicle of choice. He climbed into the passenger seat while the Doctor took the back. "We'll start with Gerard & Co. Hopefully luck's with us."

A strange sense of disquiet filled the air as Gwen drove through the silent streets of Cardiff. There were a few people out and about, but those that he saw wore fearful expressions and moved quickly through the night. He knew that if he tuned to one of the local radio stations, it was likely that the radio DJ's words would be full of signs and portents. The end of the world was nigh and other such nonsense. Admittedly, in this case, that wasn't too far from the truth.

He had no doubts that if they couldn't stop Rose, the world as he knew it, the future, and all of time, would be destroyed. Which meant, of course, that they _had_ to stop her.

Easier said than done.

Strangely, nothing tried to stop them as they headed for the docks. No attack of bats, no warping of time around them, nothing out of the ordinary. He couldn't believe that Rose hadn't known what they were planning. So, she was letting them come to her.

"This is too easy," he commented as he fitted an arrow to his crossbow.

Gwen nodded. "It does seem that way. Where're the legions of undead sent to stop us?"

"She wants me to come," the Doctor said, his voice tight with an unidentified emotion. "She's clearing a path for me."

He turned in his seat to look at the Time Lord and he could see that the other man's face was, once again, ashen. "Doctor, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, worried. Maybe it was a bad idea to have brought him along. Maybe.

"I have to," the Doctor replied, his tone brokering no argument. "It's me she wants."

Great. Just great. Which meant that he had something else to worry about. "Gwen, park us a short distance away from the warehouse. I'll check-in with you in thirty minutes. If something happens and I don't contact you, I want you to get the hell out of here. Got it?"

Gwen shook her head as she slowed the vehicle to a stop. "Like hell I'm going to leave you in there without backup, Jack. If I don't hear from you in thirty minutes, I'm coming in after you."

Damnit. Why did he always get stuck with the stubborn ones? "Gwen..."

"Don't even say it, got it? Now get in there and save the day." She smiled brightly at him, gesturing toward the warehouse.

He sighed but, before he could say anything, the gentle open and shut of the rear door indicated that the Doctor had already left. Shooting her a warning glance, he climbed out after him. "See you in hell," he told her just before he closed the door.

The Doctor was far enough ahead of him that he had to jog to catch up. When he did, he grabbed the other man's arm and pulled him to a stop. "Slow down," he told him, keeping his voice low. "Do you want to bring all of the vampires in Cardiff down on our heads?"

"I told you, she's clearing a path."

"And how do you know that?" he asked, holding his weapon at the ready.

"She told me," the Doctor replied. In the dim light cast by the sporadic lampposts, what he could see of the Time Lord's expression gave him little reassurance.

"Doctor," he said, refusing to either let go of the other man's arm or to move closer to the warehouse. "I need to know you're with me on this. Don't listen to whatever it is she's telling you, got it. I need your help. We all do. The entire human race. And, whatever she's saying, it doesn't matter. What matters is here and now and what we have to do."

The Time Lord blinked and he could see awareness, true awareness, flood back into his eyes. "You're right."

Good. One obstacle overcome. A whole bucket-load to come. Smiling faintly, he released his friend's arm and led the way toward the warehouse. Slowly, carefully, instinctively he stuck to the shadows though he suspected that that would matter little to the vampires that were undoubtedly keeping watch.

The windows of the warehouse were dark, but he had the feeling that dark cloth had been draped over them to obscure the interior from any passers-by and to protect them from the deadly light of the sun. The Doctor moved ahead of him to the side door, the familiar shape of the sonic screwdriver clutched in his hand. He could only hope that by choosing a more obscure entrance they would have an element of surprise on their side.

Somehow, he doubted it.

The whine of the sonic screwdriver seemed far too loud for comfort as it unlocked the door. It was only a momentary sound, but his heart pounded loudly in his ears all the same.

"Open sesame," the Doctor said softly, easing the door open.

The inside of the warehouse was as dark as he'd expected it to be. Only the faint light shed through the dark cloth covering the windows revealed any of the obstacles in their path. It was silent, however. Far, far too silent. He'd expected their path to be blocked somehow. By a vampire, by a crate, by something.

However, nothing revealed itself. He looked from side-to-side, peering into the darkness, and hoping to catch sight of something out of the ordinary. It was this motion that prevented him from realising that the Doctor had stopped just in front of him and he stumbled into the other man's back.

"We're not alone," the Time Lord cautioned.

A laugh – a very familiar laugh – filled the warehouse as a blaze of brilliant golden light appeared in front of them. In the swirl of the Vortex energy, he could see her. Rose Tyler. His heart clenched in agony as he saw the sharply pointed teeth marring her otherwise perfect smile.

"Welcome to hell," she said, and opened her arms as if she were about to embrace them.

_To be continued..._


	6. Chapter 6: Of Hell and Handbaskets

**Chapter 6: Of Hell and Handbaskets**

This wasn't Hell. It wasn't even a passable imitation. Humankind wouldn't discover the planet Hell for some time and, when they did, they truly meant it. Scorching heat, flaming lakes, sulphur atmosphere. Not a very pleasant location admittedly, but humans still lived there. All part of their charm, of course. They lived there because they could.

"Not really," he said, shaking his head. "Not enough heat and certainly not the right atmosphere. Needs more sulphur and brimstone." He met the Bad Wolf's gaze boldly, doing his best to seem unfazed by the fact that she was once his Rose Tyler. Then again, he'd always been a champion liar – especially when it came to lying to himself.

She laughed and it was so much like _her_ laugh that it caused his hearts to clench in his chest. "You always were a witty one, in any and all of your forms, Time Lord. Did you wonder why I let you approach? Why your passage was so easy?"

Did she think he was particularly daft? Of course he knew. Her plan was completely clear. Practically bull-fighter-holding-a-red-blanket obvious. Though, he didn't care for the imagery of him being the bull. Dog whistle? No. He made a mental note to veer away from the animal metaphors. "Wonder? No. I already knew. You see, out of everyone on this tiny little planet – well, the universe really, but I wouldn't want to boast - I'm your only threat. You already know me and know what I'm capable of. You're scared," he taunted, taking a step toward her.

She moved back only a step, but it was a minor victory. "I fear nothing. Not when I can see everything. All these possibilities, all these futures. In one, I die but not before I take you and all your future regenerations with me. In another, you join me, unable to bear to be parted from the one I once was. In another, we both fail, but the universe dies and that is enough. I prefer to make my own future." She looked at him and her eyes swirled with the shimmering energy of the Vortex.

"Cockiness doesn't become you," he replied as he held out a finger, shaking it back and forth. "In fact, this entire demonstration doesn't become you. Where're your minions? Your slaves? Your legions of undead? Where are your worshippers? Your acolytes? Or did you scare them all away? Or kill them? Not a very good way of keeping minions around you, you know. Killing them is so permanent."

The Bad Wolf lips curled into a predatory smile. "Your methods are known to me, Time Lord. And prattling doesn't become _you_."

"It doesn't?" he asked, shocked. "But this is a new new me. I was born to prattle! Or would that be 'to be wild?' No, that's a song. Right. Prattling. Born to prattle. Well, not really born unless you consider regeneration a type of birth. Come to think of it, Freud would have a field day with that. Though it'd probably all trace back to my mother. Or, even worse, _your_ mother. But I think that'd take a bit of doing on his part. Prattling tracing back to mothers? Well, I can see it with Jackie Tyler. That woman can talk. Or genetics! Genetic prattling? If a prattler has a child, is that child by default a prattler? No, that doesn't really work. Not for Time Lords, at least." He wasn't about to go into his genetic background. They'd be there all night. Well, whatever was left of it.

"Or, oooh, it could be because of the tea. First cup of tea defines the regeneration, I've always said. No, wait. Can't use that turn of phrase. This is the first time I've said it. Well, from here on out, first cup of tea defines the regeneration. Right. Good phrase. I like it. Where was I? Oh, yes. Like, this time, my first cup of tea was Tetley's. Had that type once before, just after the fourth regeneration, had a bit of a thing for celery-"

She stepped forward and slapped him sharply across the face, one nail drawing blood from his cheek. He didn't respond to the impact, forcing himself to ignore the sting of the cut. However, she did react. She seemed fascinated by the injury, the gold in her eyes glowing even brighter.

The blood.

Oh, of course. She was fascinated by the blood – his blood. He watched as she licked her lips. Once. Twice.

She leaned forward, baring her teeth.

Distraction right about now would be good. Which meant more words, more prattle. Easy. He could do that. "You interrupted a perfectly good flow of prattle! You should be ashamed," he scolded her. Thankfully, his words seemed to startle her from her original goal of feeding off him. He hadn't cared for it the first time that that'd happened, and he certainly didn't fancy experiencing it again.

He caught a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye. Jack had already primed his crossbow. Any second now...

The Bad Wolf shook her head. "Anything but. You're always prattling, Doctor. You'll have to try harder if you expect me to…" Her voice trailed off as she snapped her head toward Jack as the bolt was released from the catch. It whistled through the air toward her and he held his breath.

Maybe, just maybe…

Her eyes glowed even brighter as she held up her hand. The quarrel froze mid-flight. "How simple-minded you both are. To think that this could possibly kill me?" The wooden shaft disintegrated and crumbled to the floor, nothing more than a pile of dust.

Jack glared at her. "It was worth a shot," the former Time Agent said, and he could hear the disappointment in his voice.

At least now they knew. What could kill a normal vampire wouldn't necessarily work for this one. Unless they could distract her somehow. Fully distract her. But how?

He regarded her carefully, assessing how she held herself. Predatory, yes. However, there was something underneath. Something so tantalizingly familiar. In the way her head tilted just so. Her hands as they rested against her side. And in her eyes, marred by the golden Vortex, he caught a look that was so much like _his_ Rose's that...

No, that didn't matter. Not now. Possibly not ever. Because, as usual, danger was standing before him and he was about to throw himself in the flames.

Her laugh was unlike any that he'd heard from her – the real her - before. If he had to give it a name, it was evil. Pure and unabashed evil. "Do you like what you see, Doctor? Oh, wait, I already know that you do." Her voice was a purr as she began to move, circling him.

This was a game. Nothing but an amusing diversion for her. He deliberately yawned. "Oh, sorry, did you say something?"

Jack shot him a warning glance, but he ignored it. There was method to his madness. At least, he hoped there was. Hope. Yes, that was a good word for it.

She snarled, "I can destroy you, Doctor. I can destroy everything. The cosmos, time, Jack."

He couldn't help the tiny wince that escaped him at the sound of his companion's name. He'd already lost him once. He didn't want to have to go through that again. Not for a very, very long time.

She'd seen it. Caught that moment of weakness. Her expression turned calculating as she looked at him, tilting her head almost as if she were trying for a better view. "Ah, yes, Jack Harkness. Left behind. Forgotten. No more Jack, just the Doctor and Rose. And, now, how touching it is to see the two of you together. The Doctor and Jack."

He knew her goal. She wanted to sow discord between them, separate them. It wouldn't work. Couldn't work. Strength in numbers, strength in togetherness, strength in lo... Enough of that. Jack was here. With him. Facing this simulacrum of Rose. That was what mattered.

"Tell me, Doctor, did you miss him when you thought he was dead? Did you mourn him? Or did you just…forget about him like you've forgotten all the others. Never mentioned him again, did you? Sarah Jane redux."

"That's the past," Jack said, seemingly unconcerned. "What matters is now. Right here, right now, and that? That doesn't matter."

She growled under her breath and the Vortex flared around her, brightening the open area around them. "I tire of you two. I can kill you, you know. With one word, one thought, death will be permanent. Or I could destroy everything. And you can't stop me."

It was a glimmer, the merest beginning, but, yes, it was a plan. Oh, how he loved plans! They were beautiful! "I don't have to," he replied with a cheeky grin. "You'll stop yourself."

"And why would I do that?" Ah-ha. There it was. Curiosity. Lovely, beautiful trait that it was. Even as a vampire, even as Bad Wolf, she had that particular attribute in spades.

"Because it's too easy. Too simple. Too _boring_. Where's the challenge in that? Where's the _fun_?" Admittedly, his words could've easily been applied to himself. Why take the easy route when there was a dangerous and ultimately more rewarding path elsewhere? Then again, there were times when the easy path was the best choice. Like when Rose and he had been stuck in the Slime Pits of Mordragoranis IV. But that was neither here nor there.

"Fun? Oh, this is _fun_, Time Lord." In an instant, she was across the room, her hand wrapping around Jack's throat. "Hello, Jack," she said, her voice sickeningly sweet. "What is it that you liked to say? Oh, yes, long time no see. Remember me giving you your life back? The sharp, agonising pain of death and the sudden, desperate return to life – completely healed? Want to experience it again? Only, this time, I don't think I'll bring you back. Or maybe I will. The possibilities are endless."

Right. He hated it when a plan started to go wrong even before it was fully formed.

* * *

He'd be damned if this was the way he was going to die. He hadn't survived this long, held onto his anger, or climbed the ranks in Torchwood to die at the hands of the woman he loved. Then again, the woman that he loved was dead. Only this creature remained. Using her body and her voice, true, but it wasn't her.

He struggled against the strangling grip, digging his fingers into tendons that should have caused his captor to let go. However, it seemed that vampires had no such weakness. Well, damnit anyway.

What was it the Doctor said? Faith could drive vampires away. Well, wasn't that great? He didn't believe in anything. Anything, that was, other than himself. Because everything else that he'd ever believed in had betrayed him. Even - he glanced at his friend - the Doctor.

How could he muster up enough faith to defeat a vampire?

"Not so easy, is it, Jack? Fighting against me, realising that there isn't anything to believe in." It was Rose's voice, but it wasn't. There was a tone overlying her voice, making it something uniquely inhuman. Perhaps it was the effects of the Vortex.

"Fighting against you?" The words came out on a wheezing breath. "That's easy."

"Is it?" she asked, curious. "Is it really?" Her fingers tightened around his throat. "Perhaps I should make you like me. Would you like that Jack? To be immortal. To see the world as I see it. To be with me forever?"

"Go to hell," he said as forcefully as he could manage.

Rose laughed. "Is that the best you can do? 'Go to hell'? Hmm, maybe I will turn you. I can manipulate time, you know. It'll take only a moment, an instant, and the change will be permanent." He felt her nuzzle his neck and he shivered in revulsion.

He looked at the Doctor, his eyes wide, and he could see the other man mouth the words 'have faith'. Yeah, helpful, that. Faith in what?

Oh, of course. He was in trouble, yes. But he was in trouble right in front of the one man who practically wrote the book on saving the day against impossible odds. He grinned. "I have faith in the impossible," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I have faith in the Doctor."

She hissed and dropped him, almost as if his skin had burned her. "After he betrayed you? After he left you behind?"

He continued to grin. "Yeah. Because, when it comes to the impossible, I've never doubted him and I never, ever will."

"You can't stop me," she snarled. However, it seemed that she couldn't get any closer to him.

Good.

"You're right," he said. "But I don't have to, do I? Because the one person in this entire universe that you fear is right here, right now, and you, Bad Wolf, are fucked."

* * *

"Faith is a beautiful thing, isn't it?" the Doctor asked, grinning widely. "Especially when it seems to keep you from your prey. Problematic, that, isn't it?"

Inwardly, he was cheering. A little faith had a wonderful effect, despite its source. It was true that he did tend to save the day a great deal, but he also lost with similar regularity. This time he had no intention of losing.

"You can't keep me away, though, can you, Doctor?" The Bad Wolf turned her attention to him, her golden eyes piercing.

"I can't?" Oh, if she only knew. Then again, she would. Very, very shortly.

"You love Rose Tyler. That much is obvious. You can't resist me. Because I'm still her. Still your Rose. Just as you" - she moved closer to him, her gaze hypnotic. However, there was something in her eyes that made him realise that his Rose wasn't truly gone. She was still there. Terrified and overwhelmed, but still there. - "are still my Doctor."

He blinked, breaking her bewitching contact and laughed. "Oh, I can resist you. And you know why? It's called faith. Let me tell you what I believe in. I believe in Susan. Ian and Barbara. Jamie McCrimmon and Victoria. Dodo and Harry Sullivan. Sarah Jane Smith, Leela, and Romana. Adric, Nyssa, Tegan Jovanka and Turlough. Peri, Mel, Evelyn, and Ace." He stepped closer to her and was satisfied that she took a violent step backwards. It was working. "Benny Summerfield, Charley, Sam, Trix and Fitz."

She shook her head, hissing as she backed away.

"I believe in Jack Harkness." He looked at his friend and was surprised to see shock in his expression. Surely he knew?

"And I especially believe in ROSE TYLER!" He shouted her name and he could see a flicker of confusion in the vampire's eyes.

"Why have faith in the one who will destroy you?"

"Because it's not you that I have faith in, Bad Wolf. The one I have faith in is still in there, buried, but there. _My_ Rose Tyler. And she wouldn't do this."

There. In her eyes, he saw it again. Stronger this time, but still there. His Rose.

"You're wrong," the vampire replied. "There's only me now."

"How many times have I been wrong?" he asked. "No, wait, don't answer that. How many times have I got it right, especially when it counted?"

"Every single time," Jack said, coming to his side. Together, they faced her and she shook her head violently.

"I'm the Bad Wolf. I control life and death. The universe is at my fingertips. The woman you know is dead and gone. She was destroyed the instant I came into existence."

"No," he corrected. "You're so full of the space-time Vortex that you can't see the truth. Yes, you were bitten. But the Vortex saved you. You're still there. You're still Rose Tyler. You can fight off the vampire virus, Rose. You rid the universe of the Daleks. Ridding yourself of a tiny, insignificant virus should be child's play." He smiled as he saw another, stronger glimpse of _his_ Rose in the vampire's eyes. "I believe in you."

The vampire staggered, her hands flying her head, pressing against the temples. "No. No, you can't. You _can't_, you're dead, and you can't." Her words were mumbled, barely audible, but it was enough. Oh, yes, it was enough.

Yes, yes, yes. He knew what that meant. He'd got through. He'd reached Rose, and, even better, she was fighting back. Fighting for control. In the contest of vampire virus versus Rose Tyler for control of the Bad Wolf, his money would be on Rose every time.

Beautiful. It was beautiful. And it could work. No, it would work. Had to work. Rose would win. And she'd be back. And the vampire would be no more.

Yes, yes, yes!

But wait. What if he was wrong? What if he was pining his hopes on an impossibility, a dream, a desire? What if Rose couldn't win or had already lost?

And, almost as if in answer to his questions, the Bad Wolf began to scream.

_To be continued..._


	7. Chapter 7: The Fall

**Chapter 7: The Fall**

The dream was no longer a dream. It was reality. It was hunger and hatred and fury and dozens upon dozens of emotions that defied labels or descriptions. This was her life. Constant hunger, constant craving, constant desire.

This was hell. Her own personal hell, locked away in a mind that churned with fury and hunger. She could see him. The small, tiny, insignificant portion of who she used to be could see him and she suddenly knew. One glance was all it took and she knew. Oh, she knew.

Hope sprung eternal. Even for someone who should be dead, or was dead but couldn't accept it, or whatever one would call her current existence as a scrap of thought buried beneath the mantle of vampire and Bad Wolf.

And there it was. Hope. An avalanche only needed the smallest of pebbles to start. That was what she was. A pebble. A tiny, almost insignificant fragment held captive, but not for long. The smallest push and she could be free. The slightest rebellion and she could regain control.

And, now, she knew how.

It would only take a moment, an instant of distraction, and she could slip in, try to take over. She remembered everything, now. She remembered Satellite Five, and the feel of the Vortex as she controlled it, manipulated it to her whim. That knowledge was power.

She could manage Bad Wolf. She'd done it before. The vampire, on the other hand, was an amateur. She had managed to keep most of her knowledge regarding the Vortex to herself.

She had the advantage. This was her body, her mind, her Bad Wolf.

This was her dream. Her nightmare.

And she should be able to control it.

* * *

Life, Jack had long ago determined, was a series of gambles. Take a risk, take a chance, and sometimes the game was won and sometimes it was lost. But what mattered were those chances. Those moments could result in victory or failure, yet it was the choices that counted.

It'd be easy. Simple. She was distracted, screaming. And, much as it tore his heart to hear the sound, he consoled himself that it wasn't _his_ Rose. This was a vampire, and it needed to be stopped, killed. Despite the Doctor's certainty that the real Rose, the one they loved, might somehow be reached, he couldn't take the risk.

He moved slowly, careful not to make a sudden gesture that might catch the vampire's attention. He just had to fit the bolt to the crossbow and...

Movement. Just to the side, barely noticeable, almost as if someone had darted behind one of the crates that lined the room. Another vampire? Or... He caught a flash of dark hair and a lithe build and fought the urge to curse loudly.

Gwen.

Of course it'd have to be her. She never knew when to stay put. He made a mental note to invest in some sort of restraints – handcuffs would do, but she might get the wrong idea. Then again, knowing her, she'd just manage to slip out of them.

Damn her anyway.

Yet…oh, yes. Gwen was one step ahead of him. He could see her crossbow, see her aim for Rose – _not Rose_, he told himself firmly – and rest her finger on the trigger.

The screams seemed to rise in pitch, almost as if the vampire knew what was coming.

_Goodbye, Rose._

The bolt fired, whistling through the air toward Rose. Another instant, and it'd hit her. Just one moment and this entire dreadful experience would be finished. Done. He'd finally be able to mourn Rose properly and pick up the pieces of a broken Time Lord.

He could trace the path of the quarrel as it shot toward her, following just behind it with his eyes. He couldn't look away. He had to watch this, watch her end, because he owed it to her. He owed it to Rose, the woman he loved, to be a silent witness.

And then everything changed. A blur of a brown pin-striped suit got in the quarrel's path. The bolt hit home and he could only watch in horror as the Doctor and Rose collapsed to the ground. The sharp impact of bone against concrete echoed through the room and terror pounded through his heart.

No! Oh, god, no.

He hurried forward, disregarding the danger. "Doctor!" What had the stupid bastard done? The Time Lord might've condemned them all this time.

Rose wasn't moving, but he could tell that she was still alive – or whatever counted as life for a vampire. She groaned, but his attention was on the Doctor.

The bolt was embedded fletching-deep in his friend's right shoulder. The Doctor's face was pale and pinched with pain, and his left hand was pressed against the wound. "She can do it, Jack," the Doctor said, his voice rough from pain. Blood welled up between his fingers, coating them in burnt orange. "Rose can defeat the vampire virus."

He could hear Gwen approaching from behind him and, trusting her to watch his back, he shook his head. "You can't be sure of that! You might've just killed everyone, Doctor. And for what? She's _not_ Rose, Doctor. Rose is dead. We can't take the chance."

"You don't know that. It'll work," the Time Lord insisted, his expression imploring.

He wouldn't allow himself to be swayed. Rose would be awake and after them any moment now. There was no choice. Turning back toward Gwen, he spoke in a voice that he himself could barely recognise. "Gwen, you know what to do." God forgive him.

"Yeah," she said softly, and he could hear the sympathy in her voice. "I do."

"No!" the Doctor objected, struggling to get to his feet. He put his hand on the other man's chest to keep him still. "It'll work!"

"I'm sorry," he said and he could see anguish roiling in his friend's eyes. Anguish and accusation.

He'd been the one who had been angry at the Doctor. He was the one who had been convinced that he could never forgive the Time Lord for what he'd done. Leaving him behind to die on the Game Station. Forgetting about him. But this, he knew, would be it.

The Doctor would never forgive him for this.

So be it.

* * *

No! Stupid, bloody…_apes_! "You have to give her a chance!" he tried again as he gritted his teeth against the burning pain of his wounded shoulder. He willed Jack to hear him. But the man had stopped listening. He could tell just from the look in his eyes. Resignation. Defeat. Sorrow. 

Enough of this. Despite the pain, despite Jack's hand pressed against his chest, he forced himself to sit up. It'd only take a moment, a second, and he could slow down time. He could move quickly, get in Gwen's way, give Rose a chance.

A chance would be all that she'd need. Just one, and she could do it. He knew she could. Wouldn't believe otherwise. It was Rose, his Rose, and she'd save herself.

He groaned as his movement caused the bolt to move inside his shoulder, sending a fresh coat of bright orange-red blood over his fingers. He'd have to deal with the injury, but not yet. He had a life to save.

"Damnit, Doctor, you're going to hurt yourself more. Lie back down," Jack snapped.

He ignored the comment, pushing the other man away with almost careless ease – oh, he'd regret that later. Concentration was the key. He could see Gwen out of the corner of his eye as she pulled out a wooden stake.

He drew in a bracing breath and began to concentrate. Time was a river. It ebbed and flowed based on perceptions and the basic laws of the universe. Its course could be altered or slowed. Changed and manipulated. But carefully, oh so carefully, or the space-time continuum could fracture.

Only in this room, just within his line of sight, he tried to force time to slow to a mere trickle. Anything to buy himself (and Rose) a chance.

His goal was usurped as he felt a more powerful hand take control.

"Stop." The word was a command and Time listened.

Gwen was frozen mid-step. Jack's mouth was open almost as if he were about to speak. And he could still move.

He found that revelation startling. There was little doubt that Bad Wolf could freeze him as easily as she had the others. She had so much power at her fingertips. He struggled to his feet, turning to face her.

Her eyes were still the vibrant gold of the Vortex, but something fundamental had changed. Her stance was different from before, more relaxed, less predatory.

"Doctor," Rose said and he knew. He _knew_.

"Rose," he replied, willing his hopes to be true.

She grimaced, lifting a hand to her temple. "It hurts," she said. "Why does it hurt?"

"Did you…" he began, stepping forward, but she held up a hand.

"Don't come any closer!" she instructed, moving back to maintain some measure of distance between them. "This is hard enough without the...temptation."

'Temptation?' he wanted to ask, but then he realised what she meant. His wound. The blood. Which meant that this was Rose. _His_ Rose.

"I don't have much time, Doctor. I don't know much longer I can keep this up, but I'm going to try something. An' if it doesn't work... I jus' wanted to say, 'm sorry. For all of this. 'S not your fault, okay? Don't blame yourself. I wish..." Her face reflected intense pain and he could barely restrain himself from going to her.

"Rose, don't. It _is_ my fault." The words were choked.

"No, it's not," she replied, shaking her head. "I brought the TARDIS here, Doctor. 'S because of me. But I had to do it 'cause of causality. An' now...well, this is it. There's so much I wish I could say, but there isn't enough time." Tears ran down her cheeks. "I want you safe. You and Jack. Safe. An'...if this doesn't work. I want you to promise me somethin'."

"Anything," he replied, dreading what she was going to ask.

"Kill me. If this doesn't work an' I'm still a vampire, kill me. Please."

How else could he respond? Much as it would murder him to do so, he had no choice. For Rose. He'd do it for her. "Okay."

"Thanks." She staggered slightly and shook her head. "I can't...Doctor, I jus' want you to know… I..."

Rose didn't complete her words, she couldn't, and he could only watch as the Vortex energy glowed brighter and brighter.

Time screamed.

He screamed along with it as his senses overloaded one by one until blessed unconsciousness claimed him.

And he knew no more.

* * *

Poised on a breath, she could feel the fabric of time stretch to the breaking point. One more nudge and it would unravel, lashing through the universe as it wiped itself from existence.

She could do that. So, so easily. All it would take was a wish, a desire, and it would happen. One moment of weakness and the world would be gone and she wouldn't have to fight anymore.

Although she had control now, when would it end? Already she could feel the vampire virus inside of her struggle for control. She feared that it was a losing battle for her. She knew what he'd say. He'd tell her to have faith.

How could she have faith when she was so close to destroying the only thing she had faith in? If she gave in for an instant, just an instant, the vampire would have control. She'd lose, and that would be the end.

Then the Doctor would have to fulfil his promise.

No. She couldn't do that to him. She mustn't do that to him. She loved him too much to give up that easily. Right. She was Rose Tyler. Companion to the last Time Lord. And she was the Bad Wolf.

She reached into the Vortex, pulling strands of time toward her. The easiest way would be to turn back time to reverse everything that her vampire self had done. However, much as she wished, she couldn't undo all that had been done. She couldn't save everyone. She couldn't turn back months to stop the vampires before they started killing.

If she tried, the consequences would be devastating. She could see it all spread out before her, the future's pages fluttering past as she read all that could be, should be, and would never be. One path was open to her, just one.

She could turn back time to three days past – the three days that her vampire-self had used to make the change permanent. And, then, she could move her body back even further, to before she'd been bitten. The knowledge she'd gained would remain. But the vampire virus would be gone as well as the consequences of her actions by speeding up time.

However, it would be the hardest thing she'd ever done. She knew the Doctor had sensed what she was about to do, and she sent him a silent apology for the havoc she knew it was wreaking on his senses. Unconsciousness was best for him.

No more time. No more considerations. She held the three within the warehouse in a protective grip and, a moment later, she stretched out her arms and sang.

_There was this singing…_

Clocks turned back, whirling faster and faster as the hours disappeared as if they'd never been. Planets and stars spun through the sky as they re-traced their paths. The sun set and rose and set and rose in violation of natural law.

And, still, she sang.

It was a song of time, of redemption, of the past and future. Of all the could bes and will bes of existence.

The song stretched across the world, and everything changed. The vampire was forced to recede, the power was hers.

Night became day became night became day became night became day. She felt the dawn slip away into night again and she held onto a final note.

Her turn.

Still protectively cradling her charges, she set the temporal energies loose upon herself. Turning back the hours of the night she'd been bitten, feeling the changes begin to recede and, with it, her control over the Vortex. But she grimly held on.

There was no choice.

She had to do it, had to succeed. She felt her bite marks disappear and knew the vampire virus was gone. She was free. She was Rose Tyler again and, with a gasp of relief, she let go.

Bad Wolf receded into the back of her mind where it had always rested, the glow that lit the darkened warehouse receded, and Time snapped back into motion.

Exhausted, she fell to the ground, her legs unable to continue to support her. Fragments of memories, of possible futures, overwhelmed her. Unconsciousness threatened. Blackness coated the edges of her vision and, as it drew in, she could see someone – a woman – moving to stand over her.

The woman, she realised, was carrying a stake.

And then the darkness rolled in, engulfing her mind, and she succumbed to it.

_To be continued..._


	8. Chapter 8: Dawn

**Chapter 8: Dawn**

This was the worst headache he'd ever had – almost as if someone had taken a hard, driving, dance club track, turned up the amp to eleven, and funnelled it directly into his brain. Awareness had returned with the pain, but his memory was a little foggy. Last thing that he recalled he'd been pushed aside by...

The Doctor.

Shit! If he'd managed to stop Gwen before she could eliminate the vampire, they were screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. No, wait, something was wrong. It couldn't've been more than a second or two since he was pushed by the Time Lord, but he couldn't see him.

The light was slightly different; it had less of the vibrant colours of the Vortex, but he ignored that in favour of searching for his friend. What if the Doctor had managed to use some sort of special Time Lord power to affect him, move, and... Yeah. Right. That made lots of sense.

Shaking his head, he began to push himself off of the floor and froze when he caught a glimpse of a very familiar pin-stripe suited figure collapsed some two metres away. "Doctor," he whispered.

_What the hell happened?_

He forced himself to his feet and looked for Gwen, spotting her as she moved over Rose to complete her original orders. That was when he spotted the movement. Just there. Behind the crate. Motion of one - no two, three? – figures in the semi-darkness. One detached itself from the others and moved toward her. If he wasn't mistaken, he could see the reflection off a set of fangs as it – no, he - moved into the light.

He shouted a warning. "Gwen! Behind you!"

However, he couldn't do more than see her spin in response before another vampire was on him. The force of the initial impact sent them both to the floor, causing his breath to escape his lungs at the instant of contact. There wasn't time to catch his breath. He had to get to the stake at his belt. Had to do something before the snarling creature could bite him.

And he couldn't muster up enough faith to block the vampire's movement because the Doctor was still unconscious. _Well, shit._ Curling his hand into a fist, he lashed out, catching the vampire across his cheek.

The vampire turned, his eyes full of a sudden rage, but it wasn't enough to dislodge him from his perch on top of his body. The snarling creature ducked his head toward his neck, intent to feed, but he would have nothing of it.

He fought harder, using every dirty trick he knew and some that he made up on the fly, to try and prevent the vampire from winning. He had to…_oh, there. An opening._ He jabbed the creature in the torso, just under his ribs, and the blow was enough to knock the vampire off him.

There wasn't enough time to think of his next actions, instinct took over. The stake slid smoothly from its sheath on his belt, its weight deceptively light. Only the slightest bit of resistance met the initial thrust, the vampire caught off guard by the speed of his movements.

The vampire looked at the stake sticking out of his chest with a shocked and surprised expression on his face. An instant and a scream later, the stake fell to the ground along with a pile of dust.

He got to his feet and picked up the stake in a quick movement, his prior combat training coming to the forefront of his mind.

_Locate the enemy._

Gwen was just a few metres away, dusting ash from her clothes. She shot him a faint grin and he nodded in acknowledgement. Good. She was fine. But he'd seen at least three vampires skulking in the shadows before the attack. He'd removed one threat. Gwen another.

Which meant that at least one more vampire was on the loose.

The attack, when it came, was silent. One moment he was alone. The next, the vampire was standing in front of him. The rage that roiled in his eyes was almost physical in its intensity. When the vampire spoke, however, it was in a calm tone that did not reflect the obvious emotion in his expression. "Oh, look who's come to dinner. Never thought we'd end up having prey offer themselves to us like this – especially when said prey have watched too much _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. We don't like it when someone like you tries to kill us, you know, but that's okay. We can sort it. My brethren are easily replaced, you know." The vampire grinned, showing the points of his canines. "You don't mind if I bite your neck, do you?"

The vampire's eyes were compelling and a dozen suggestions surged through his mind, each more forceful than the last. _Give in, give up, drop the weapon, forever young, forever youthful, become one of us. _

He smiled and tapped the side of his head. "Sorry, anti-hypnosis training. You'll just have to try harder."

"That can be arranged." The vampire gestured off to the right. "Go on, look. You have a momentary reprieve."

Still wary, he turned only half-way, just enough to keep an eye both on the vampire and on whatever it was that he was supposed to see.

He saw it all right. Gwen was struggling against the grip of another vampire, the vampire's hand muffling her mouth.

"Let her go," he said, and the words were a growl.

"Oh, now why would I do that?" The vampire was obviously amused and, even more obvious, indulging him.

That was when a very familiar voice responded. "Oh, I'd say because that'd make him angry. And you wouldn't like him when he's angry. No, wait, that's the _Incredible Hulk_. Sorry about that. Really it's because you're forgetting something very, very important. Incredibly important, really."

Oh, _yes_!

* * *

Mental note. Next time, avoid close and personal contact with major temporal disruptions. They tend to cause a nasty headache and several aches that had no possible label. Well, there were a few labels in Gallifreyan, however they were mostly associated with 'stupid', 'foolhardy', and 'cockiness'.

But it'd worked. He knew it had. And it was brilliant! Except, of course, for the part where it seemed that by turning back time five days to the early hours of the morning of their second day, their current location had once again become the centre of vampire activity in Cardiff. Complete with the Bela Lugosi worshipper that was currently facing Jack and one other in a _Damn you, Joss Whedon_ t-shirt that was holding Gwen.

Never rained, but it poured.

"I'm forgetting something?" Bela Legosi – as labels went, it worked. He wore dark clothing, sinister expression, and what amounted to a cape was carelessly flipped back over the vampire's shoulders. At least, he _thought_ the label worked – asked as he moved so he could keep an eye on both Jack and himself.

"Oh, yes," he replied, slipping his hand into his pocket. It only took a specific twist of his fingers to change the setting on the sonic screwdriver. If his calculations were correct – and, being as brilliant as he was, they obviously were – the timing should be just about right. Counting on lack of cloud cover, the speed of the Earth's rotation, and a good measure of luck, of course.

Pulling out the sonic screwdriver, he aimed it toward one of the warehouse windows – or, to be specific, one of the matte black cloths that covered them. It was, admittedly, just at the edge of the device's normal range, but he couldn't risk taking another step closer. "Haven't you thought to check the time?"

Bela Lugosi's eyes widened in understanding.

He triggered the sonic screwdriver and the fabric fell from the window, revealing the break of dawn. "One of the benefits of an eastward facing window, you know. Lovely view of the sunrise."

In his haste to back away from the window, the t-shirted vampire dropped Gwen and darted into the shadows. Bela Lugosi was more dignified, but just as intent, as he receded into the darkness of the warehouse, hissing in reaction to the slowly brightening sky outside.

Perhaps he should have some measure of mercy for them, but his capacity for that particular trait was exhausted – especially considering what their kind had done. To Victoria Smythe. To Rose.

He stepped closer to the windows, turning the sonic screwdriver onto each. One by one, the curtains fell, letting in the light of day. In the background, he could hear what sounded like a manhole cover being slid to the side. They were escaping. And he'd let them. For now. But their days of terrorising Cardiff were over. He'd make certain of that.

Turning back toward his companions, he offered them a faint smile. He couldn't grin in success, because it wasn't that by any means of the word. It was a faint victory, but one that would become a full triumph in time. "I think they saw the light, don't you Jack?"

"You still have the knack of bad puns," Jack replied, shaking his head.

"Oh, I wouldn't call it a knack," he began.

"It's a gift," a very weak voice concluded.

Later, he could've sworn that time had stopped once more. Or the world had suddenly gained a new intensity of sight and sound that was unheard of – at least on this particular planet.

He turned and there she was. Rose Tyler – a very _human_ Rose Tyler – smiled wearily at him from her position on the floor.

"Rose." Her name was a benediction and a prayer of thankfulness. She was back. She was here. But sight wasn't enough. Couldn't be enough. He needed to be sure.

It took less than a second to reach her side and another to gather her into his arms. The sudden surge of pain from his injured shoulder caused him to wince, but he didn't care. He could feel her heartbeat, her warm breath as it caused the small hairs at the nape of his neck to flutter, and her echoing desperation as she clutched him to her. Oh, how he rejoiced in those simple reactions and in three little words.

She was alive.

She was _alive_!

"Thought I'd lost you." His confession was whispered into her hair.

"You had," Rose said, her voice carrying an underlying understanding and sorrow that he'd never heard before. She sounded, he realised, like him.

His hearts clenched within his chest as he tightened his hold on her. She was here. She was human. And, thank Rassilon, she was his.

* * *

Exhaustion warred with pain warred with guilt for domination of her mind. The memories of her experience were fading – which was both a blessing and a curse.

_We are not meant to know the future._

The words had drifted into her mind, full of sorrow and regret. She knew it to be true, but she couldn't help but realise that something terrible was coming. She'd caught the faintest glimpse of it while she was manipulating the Vortex. It would be horrible and traumatic, but it didn't matter. That was the future.

It would come when it was good and ready. She couldn't spend her life in fear of a nebulous 'something' that might or might not come. Besides, she couldn't see a future in which she wasn't by the Doctor's side – or, perhaps, she refused to. It'd be fine.

She didn't let concerns about the future plague her. Instead, it was her actions over the past day – days? In many ways, it seemed like years. – that bothered her.

She'd been a vampire. She'd threatened the men that she loved with death and something far worse than death. The cravings were gone now, but she could still remember what it was like – her dream made reality. She knew that she wasn't to blame for her actions. The vampire virus had caused her to act that way.

Guilt pooled within her, a constant companion that fought for dominance against the pain. She hurt, she realised. She hurt in places she didn't know could hurt, but it was a good sort of pain. It meant that she was alive. Meant that she was herself and no longer some strange mixture of Bad Wolf-vampire-Rose.

She was Rose. Just Rose. Something that she thought she'd never be again.

The Doctor's arms were tight around her, and she could feel the frantic beat of his hearts against her chest. He'd been scared, she realised. Frightened that he'd lost her. And, for what had seemed like an eternity, he had.

God, what had this done to him? He might be a new new Doctor, but he still harboured the same guilt that she'd seen in his previous incarnation. The same despair. The same inclination to carry the weight of the world – or the universe – upon his shoulders. He was just better at hiding behind masks.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, lifting one hand to cradle his head while the other was still wrapped around his body. "So, so sorry."

"No," he said softly. "You've got nothing to apologise for."

She barked a laugh and she was startled by how bitter it sounded. "Yeah, I do. I tried to destroy the universe. You and Jack right along with it…" That was when she realised that there was one person who should be there, with them, yet wasn't.

Lifting her head from the Doctor's shoulder, she held out a hand as she met the former Time Agent's gaze. "Jack..." she said, beckoning him toward her by waggling her fingers.

His expression was disbelieving but full of hopeful yearning, but she could tell that he still needed to be convinced. The woman at his side – Gwen? – looked even more sceptical as her hand clenched and unclenched around a stake.

"How do we know you're not playing a trick on us?" Gwen asked, moving to stand in front of Jack in a protective gesture. "You might've convinced the Doctor, but you can't convince me that easily."

She couldn't help the stab of hurt that shot through her at the accusation. That she'd pretend... No. She could understand why Gwen didn't believe her. The last thing that she probably remembered was her trying to kill them as a vampire. And it wouldn't be out of character for the vampire she used to be to try something like that.

But she wasn't. Not anymore. She lived. She breathed. And her heart beat in her chest. How could she convince Gwen? Something told her that despite the Doctor's belief, that wouldn't be enough for the other woman. There had to be something simple...

The Doctor helped her to stand and, once he released his desperate grip on her, he turned toward Gwen. He made certain to place himself in front of her. Though she couldn't see his expression, she knew it must be thunderous. "She's Rose. She's alive. Her heart beats, she's breathing, and..." He pointed at the light that was coming through the windows. The first rays had already touched her skin. "She's not a vampire. Not anymore."

"She wasn't just a vampire before," Gwen replied and she reflexively winced. "Conventional means of destroying vampires wouldn't necessarily work on her."

That was true or, rather, had been true. She hadn't just been a vampire. She'd been something more. Something far, far more dangerous. What if Gwen was right not to be convinced? What if the vampire wasn't truly gone?

Her hand drifted up to her neck where she fingered the flesh that had once been puckered from two bite marks. Her skin was smooth now, with no indication that anything had ever marred it. She didn't feel a craving for blood – not anymore. She didn't have the sudden urge to take over the world or the universe. She just felt like herself, only with a few extra memories.

She was about to protest that she wasn't a vampire, but Jack beat her to it. "Gwen, it's okay. If the Doctor's convinced, so am I."

Gwen looked like she would object, but something in Jack's expression seemed to persuade her otherwise. With a resigned sigh, the other woman stepped to the side, leaving her with her first clear view of Jack Harkness as herself.

He looked tired, she realised. Worn out. As if the concerns that continually burdened the Doctor's shoulders had been transferred to him if only for a day. However, the worry lines on his face were erased the instant that he smiled. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw that familiar carefree grin, and she couldn't help but smile back.

No words were necessary as he walked toward her and she toward him. They came to a stop inches away from each other and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. "Rose," he said, lifting a trembling hand to touch her cheek.

"Hi, Jack," she replied in the same tone and, as if her words were the catalyst, he released a loud whoop of joy and pulled her into his arms.

He swung them around, only his arms wrapped around her back and hers around his neck kept her aloft, but she didn't care. He was just as alive as she. They were here. They were together. And that was more than enough for her.

As the swinging slowed, she smiled up at Jack, realising that she could drown in his eyes. There was something different about them. He was older than before, both in years and in experience. He'd seen even more pain since he'd left them last – or, rather, they'd left him. If only she'd remembered that he was still alive, but she hadn't. So much pain might've been spared – both on his side and on hers.

She'd mourned him. But he was alive. He was here, in her arms, and he was looking at her in a particularly intent way. She'd never seen that particular expression directed at her before, and she felt queasy and joyful all at once.

Never dropping his gaze from hers, he ducked his head and kissed her. As kisses went, it didn't change the world. She didn't feel any different, she didn't feel like her knees were going to buckle or time had stopped. It wasn't perfect, though it was skilled. It was tender, loving, and an affirmation.

In the background, she heard the Doctor gasp in what sounded like shock. And she and Jack jumped away from each other almost as if they were burned.

_To be continued..._

* * *

_Tomorrow I will not be posting Chapter 9 like usual. I won't be around for most of the evening, so I'm going to take a day's break, but Burns will be back on Wednesday.  
_


	9. Chapter 9: Hollow Victories

**Chapter 9: Hollow Victories**

Now, if he were a brilliant Time Lord – which he was – he'd realise that he might've just fallen into a classic blunder. Most famous of which was to never get involved in a land war in Asia. The other was never go in against a Sicilian when death was on the line. No, wait, that was the _Princess Bride._

He made a mental note to attempt to avoid classic Earth movie references in the future. Rose had turned back time. Five days all told. It was a classic paradox. Another one. What was it about his recent regenerations – or, perhaps, it was Rose? – that tended to bring them about? No, he couldn't pin this one on Rose. He'd done the same with Charley, after all.

Three people remembered the past five days. Well, technically, they remembered the passage of two days and some hours. The three days that led up to the full moon were instantaneously passed thanks to Bad Wolf. Question was whether or not the rest of the world recalled those days. And whether the massive temporal mangling that had taken place at Bad Wolf's hands had caused a large enough tear in the space-time continuum to attract the Reapers.

That was when he realised that the others were all staring at him. Rose and Jack actually looked somewhat guilty. Which was rather confusing. "What?"

"You gasped," Gwen explained, since it seemed apparent that neither of his companions would say anything.

"I did?" Strange, he didn't recall that. Well, must've done.

"Yes, you did," Rose replied, finding her voice. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just thinking about Time Lord-y things." He wrinkled his nose. That didn't sound right. "Time Lord-y." He enunciated the word carefully before shaking his head. "A word I should try to never use again."

"Doctor." His name was both a warning and a question. Rose's capacity for using his name to say so much was amazing, really.

"We need to get back to the TARDIS," he said, giving in. Only way to make sure. If the interior still existed, brilliant. If it didn't, well, he'd cross that particular bridge when they came to it. If they came to it. Which they wouldn't.

Hopefully.

No, wait. Problem. It was, once again, one day after they'd first arrived in Cardiff. The TARDIS was still inaccessible. But maybe, just maybe, the old girl might be able to give him some sort of a clue as to whether his fears were founded on anything sound. Since, technically, if he couldn't open the door – the interior must still be there. If he could, and the interior was gone, that'd be bad.

"What's at the TARDIS?" Jack asked.

"Answers." Admittedly it wasn't the most forthcoming of responses, but it'd have to do. He'd prefer not to give voice to his fears unless they were true. And, if they weren't, no harm done.

He realised his mistake the instant he saw Jack's expression shutter. It was almost physical in its effects. Even after all this time, after what had happened, Jack still harboured a grain of insecurity and disbelief. Admittedly, he deserved some of it. But...

Oh, _bollocks_.

No choice. He'd have to share what he knew or, at least, suspected. "What do you know about Reapers?"

Rose turned alarmingly pale and, without bothering to wait for Jack to reply, he crossed the short distance between them and gathered her into his arms. He hated doing this to her because he knew she'd only blame herself. She was rather good at that. Almost, he admitted, as good as himself.

"Only some stories," Jack said, looking uncomfortable with the subject or, perhaps, the company. He shot Gwen a nervous look before he seemed to come to a decision. "They're parasites, aren't they? Feed off paradoxes and such?"

He nodded. "Exactly. And, problem is, we've got several nice juicy paradoxes right here, right now. Which means we might be getting some uninvited guests for breakfast." He had no idea how to stop them, provided that they were coming. Last time, he'd barely been able to save the people in that church and, even then, he'd ended up getting consumed. It was only because of Pete Tyler that the world had been saved. Otherwise, everything would've been erased. The Earth, Time, the entire cosmos.

"And you've got something that can stop them in the TARDIS?" Jack asked.

He shook his head. "No. Can't get in at the moment. At least, I can't if everything's as it should be. If I can, well, that'd be bad. At least it's a sure-fire way of knowing whether they're coming or not." Though what he'd do if they were coming was a good question.

"Say what?" Jack asked.

"Oh, right. Didn't I tell you? We were pulled out of the Vortex. Got knocked around a bit and the TARDIS had to kick us out to make repairs. We've got another twenty-four hours in this lovely city of yours before we can leave. Well, when I say lovely, I really mean its okay. Well, when I say okay, I..."

"I think he gets it," Rose interrupted him. Why did everyone interrupt his prattle, especially just before he reached the interesting bits?

"You said they erase paradoxes. What sort of paradox?" Gwen asked, apparently confused.

He sighed. Humans. "Temporal paradoxes. And this one's a particular beauty. The last five days have been erased, Gwen. They didn't happen. There isn't any evidence of them happening besides up here." He tapped the side of his head.

Gwen's brow furrowed in confusion. "But how's that possible? And, if it's five days ago, what happened to the version of me that should be travelling to the office right now? Or am I in two places at once? And this is giving me a headache." She pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead and winced.

"'S all right," Rose said, smiling sympathetically. "Happens to me all the time."

He grinned at his companion and let her go only enough to entwine their fingers. Turning toward Gwen, he nodded. "That's it exactly. A paradox. If the last five days hadn't happened, we wouldn't be here right now. As for how it's possible, well, Bad Wolf turned back time. That's how it's possible. However, the burning question is whether or not we can expect Reapers to crash into this particular parade. Therefore, to the TARDIS! Or should that be batmobile? Or the Torchwoodmobile?"

Without waiting for any responses from the others, he started for the door, pausing only when he realised that no one was following him. "What?" he asked, looking back at the others.

"Doctor, if we're five days in the past, we never came out here in the first place. Which means we don't have a car," Gwen replied.

"Ah," he said, resisting the urge to slap the palm of his hand against his forehead. "Should've thought of that."

* * *

It'd be, Jack realised, nearly impossible to hail a cab at this time of the morning, especially this close to the docks. Either they were all engaged by young executives intent on reaching work on time or their drivers had decided to sleep in. Good thing he always had backup. Pulling out his cell, he dialled the main Torchwood number.

"Hello, you've reached the offices of..." A machine-generated voice began.

He interrupted the message. "Harkness. J. 55-99-162."

"Transferring."

The phone clicked as it was answered. "Jack? What the hell are you doing calling in at this hour?" Toshiko asked incredulously.

"Could say the same thing," he teased. Toshiko was well known for her propensity to stay overnight when something had caught her interest. "I need a team out at the old Gerard & Co. warehouse by the docks. Usual group – forensics and investigators. Arm them with crossbows. Gwen and I found the source of our little exsanguination problem. Two vehicles."

"You never sleep, do you?" Toshiko asked. "Right. Dispatching a team now. Do you need a clean-up crew?"

"Not just yet, but keep them standing by. The team leader can make that determination when they're done with the investigation," he replied.

"They'll be with you in ten minutes. Want to tell me how you found the source this fast?"

"Luck, Toshiko. Pure luck," he said. "I'll talk to you later." And he ended the call. Turning to the others, he continued, "Company in ten. We'll commandeer one of the Torchwood cars to get back to Millennium Centre. From there, we can get to the TARDIS."

He still wasn't certain what good visiting the TARDIS would do, especially if they couldn't enter the time-ship, but he was willing to indulge the Doctor. The day or, rather, the _days_ had been long and emotional ones.

"You're gonna take care of the rest of the vampires, right?" Rose asked. "I mean, two of 'em got away but there's got to be more out there, yeah?"

He wanted to promise her that they'd get them. That they'd be able to stop the vampires – all of them – but he couldn't do that. There were no guarantees, not in his line of work. Not even in Rose's, come to think of it. Anything could happen. Anything would happen. So, he settled for the truth. "We'll try."

She didn't look happy with the answer, but he could tell that she understood. That would have to be enough.

By the time that the other Torchwood agents arrived on the scene, he was certain that the Doctor was about to climb the walls. Patience had never been a particular virtue of the Time Lord in either of his incarnations.

"Stay here," he instructed. The Doctor made a move to follow him, but he shook his head. "I mean it, Doctor. I need to see who's out there. Gwen, if-"

Gwen nodded. "I'll get them out of here." Good.

He waited for the last of the car doors to slam outside before he started for the door, motioning for the others to keep back for the moment. He wasn't certain who was on duty this particular morning and, if it was who he feared, he didn't want them anywhere near the Doctor or Rose.

The door creaked loudly as he opened it enough to slip outside. He nodded to the agents that he recognised, but he had yet to see the team leader. They must be on the other side of the SUV. As he rounded the vehicle, he finally spotted who it was and bit back a curse.

Jeremy Saunders. Had to be him.

"Hear you've got something interesting for us, Jack-o!" Jeremy boomed and he winced. Jeremy had one volume – a shout.

"This is the source of all the exsanguinations and attacks that we've seen around town for the past few months. I'm going to need your team to investigate the warehouse. Two vampires escap-"

"Vampires? You're kidding, right?" Saunders asked.

He shook his head. How the man had managed to survive in Torchwood this long was a mystery to him. "No, I'm not. Two vampires escaped. I heard what sounded like a manhole cover being removed. You'll need to take a few men after them. During the day, they're vulnerable. Sunlight, removing their head, or stabbing them through the heart will kill them. I have no idea how many vampires there are in this particular nest. It'll be up to your team to figure that out. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah. Got it. Where's Gwen?"

"Still inside. I'm going to need one of your vehicles to get back to the Institute. The home office'll want to hear about this." That he had no intention of letting the home office know anything of what had happened in Cardiff wasn't mentioned.

"Sure," Jeremy replied, tossing him a set of keys. "Get someone to drive it back out here. We're going to need to get back somehow."

He nodded, trusting his actions to speak louder than words. He started to turn to go back inside when Jeremy continued, "Jack, did you hear about what the cameras spotted this morning in Millennium Centre?"

A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him just what the other man was about to say. He hadn't been in yet, hadn't had the chance to grab the images off the printer, hadn't had the chance to prevent anyone else from seeing them.

"It's the TARDIS! Can you believe it? He's here! After all this time, he's here!" Saunders sounded incredibly cheerful and he bit back another curse.

"No, I didn't hear about that. Did anyone – " His words were cut off again. Jeremy was always far too fond of the sound of his own voice.

"We called London 'bout twenty minutes ago. They're scrambling some of their top scientists now. I hear that Yvonne's narked that it happened here and not in London, can you believe it?" Jeremy asked.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. "Yeah. Amazing. Tell you what, I need to grab Gwen and get back to the Institute. I'll leave you to it, then. Good luck." Without bothering to wait for a response from Saunders, he hurried back into the warehouse. Thankfully, Rose and the Doctor were no where to be seen.

Gwen smiled tightly at him as she brushed past several of the incoming agents to reach his side. "Back to Torchwood?" she asked and added, under her breath, "Around the back."

"I hate paperwork," he groused for the benefit of any in hearing distance. Thankfully, they were mostly ignored as they left the warehouse.

The car was sadly located near Saunders, but the man was distracted when they reached the vehicle. He unlocked it and motioned for Gwen to get inside.

Knowing London, they'd bring out the helicopter to get to Cardiff as quickly as possible. Which meant that they were running out of time. As soon as the doors were shut and he'd started the car engine, he sighed and pulled away from the warehouse. They had a few minutes before they'd reach the Doctor and Rose and in that time they had to come up with a plan. "Gwen, we've got a problem."

"Why is it that whenever you say that I know I'm not going to like whatever it is you're talking about? Oh, yeah, I know. That'd be experience. What is it?" she asked.

"Someone's called London," he told her, knowing that she'd be able to fill in the blanks with ease.

She pulled in a whistling breath between her teeth. "How much time?"

"Maximum? An hour, maybe two," he replied.

"We can get Toshiko to move the TARDIS out of the Centre, but we wouldn't be able to get it out of Cardiff without their noticing. They can tap into the city camera system just as well as we can," Gwen cautioned.

He knew that. Damnit, he knew that. But what else could they do? The instant Torchwood got their hands on the TARDIS, they wouldn't let go. Especially since it would inevitably draw the Doctor to them.

Right. No choice then. "The bed and breakfast. Do you remember if there was a shed behind it?"

"Maybe. I didn't pay much attention the first time we were there to tell you the truth. Too busy keeping someone from doing something daft," Gwen responded and, though he kept his eyes on the road, he could tell that she was looking at him. Probably with her patented 'told you so' expression, too.

"We'll have to ask the Doctor." If there was a shed or someplace that they could hide the TARDIS, and keep the Time Lord off Torchwood's radar for the next twenty-four hours they'd be safe. The Doctor and Rose could head off in the TARDIS on another adventure and he...

Well, he'd do what he always did.

Survive.

* * *

She gnawed her lower lip as they waited for Jack. What if something had gone wrong? What if Jack was stuck with the Torchwood blokes and he couldn't join them? She'd seen Gwen's face just before she had ushered them to the back door. She knew that look. Something was wrong. She just knew it.

When she stole a glance at the Doctor, she could tell he felt much the same. He would alternately shove his hands into his pockets, run his fingers through his hair, sigh, check the corners of the building, look at her, and grab her hand. However, he wouldn't stray far from her. He seemed to have a need to at least be close enough to see her, if not touch her.

She really had frightened him, hadn't she?

"This must be our ride," the Doctor said as a black car slowed to a stop in front of them.

As they climbed in, she noticed that Gwen was on her mobile and Jack was unusually silent. He didn't even turn around. Instead, he waited for the door to shut before he pulled away from the curb.

Once Gwen was off the mobile, Jack spoke, "We've got a change of plans."

"What sort of change of plans?" she asked. She trusted Jack, of course, but something in the tone of his voice did little to reassure her.

"Doctor, does Evelyn's bed and breakfast have a shed? Someplace large enough to fit the TARDIS?"

_What?_ Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Why do you ask?" the Doctor asked suspiciously.

Jack sighed. "Someone called the London branch of Torchwood. They're supposed to be our home office, but we've pretty much been a solitary entity for some time now. But, problem is, they've heard that you're in town, Doctor. And they want the TARDIS. And, by extension, you."

"Whatever for? Alien technology? You've got that in spades. To play a game of chess? Have a nice cuppa?" He looked as confused as she felt.

"There's something about Torchwood that you don't know, Doctor," Jack reluctantly said. "Its charter has two main goals. One is to capture and use alien technology to protect the United Kingdom. The other is to protect the United Kingdom from you."

His nose wrinkled as he uttered the same word that she was thinking. "What?"

_To be continued..._


	10. Chapter 10: An Ungrateful Nation

**Chapter 10: An Ungrateful Nation**

He wasn't certain whether to be insulted or flattered. It'd been a long time since he'd last been public enemy number one on a world other than Skaro – which didn't count, since it was gone – or Mondas – same – or Sontar. And, well, he couldn't exactly call the United Kingdom the world. Especially since, as far as he knew, he was still in the good graces of UNIT.

So, Torchwood wanted him. Well, too bad, they couldn't have him. Just meant he'd have to be a bit more careful from here on out. Then again, he was enough of a pragmatist to realise that he would do nothing of the sort.

"From me? From me! Ha! Since when has the United Kingdom needed protecting from _me_?" If anything, he was the one doing the protecting. The Doctor – Defender of the Earth. Well, it sounded a bit camp – and a tad too superheroish for him – but it worked. That still didn't answer why he was suddenly at the top of England's most wanted.

Gwen answered in Jack's stead. "Since you apparently made a rather unfavourable impression on Queen Victoria."

Unfavourable…oh. _Oh_. At least that explained the name. "Ah. That."

"So Torchwood is after the Doctor because Queen Victoria decided she didn't like him?" Rose asked incredulously.

"From what I can tell, it's because she didn't like what he represented. She created Torchwood to protect her kingdom from the paranormal, the strange, or the extraterrestrial," Jack said. "The Doctor just jumpstarted the entire process."

He wouldn't ask if Jack was going to turn him in. He knew that it wouldn't happen. Or, at least, he hoped it wouldn't. They'd been through too much together. Before Satellite Five and after – here, with Rose.

He stole a glance at her as she leaned forward, bracing her elbows against her knees. He couldn't help himself as he reached over to grab her hand, needing to feel her human warmth– _she's alive_ – again. "What do they want with my TARDIS?"

"At a guess? First they'd want it as bait to get you. Then they'd want to study it, perhaps dismantle-"

He interrupted Gwen's explanation with an astonished gasp. "Dismantle it? _Dismantle_! They can certainly try, but they would never, ever succeed." They could hurt her, though. Oh, yes, they could hurt her. But if it got to be too much, she would dematerialise to heal. Unless she thought he was in danger too...

Ah. Now he could see just how diabolically clever these Torchwood people were. But, if they'd been around since Queen Victoria… There was a stint of time when he'd been trapped on Earth, wings clipped, and TARDIS fettered. Why hadn't they tried anything then?

"Why now? I've been on Earth time and time again, yet I've never heard of Torchwood," he asked.

"UNIT protected you, Doctor. Best they could, best they knew how. And Torchwood agreed to let you be while you were in their employ," Jack explained.

Good old Brigadier. "Ah. Yes, that would make sense. When will our friends from London arrive?"

Gwen glanced at her watch. "Earliest is forty minutes from now, latest an hour and a half."

"Does the bed and breakfast have a shed?" Jack asked again.

He searched his memory. During the early hours that he'd spent watching the coming dawn such a long (and short) time ago, he recalled spotting something of that nature through the window. "I think...yes. Yes it does." However, he didn't want to involve Evelyn in this mess. She had enough...

_Evelyn_. Oh, no. He'd still have to do something about her niece. Find out who'd bit her, see if there wasn't something else that he could do to save her. And, best place to find that out would be in the hostel.

"Right," Jack said and flipped on the indicator. "Gwen, call Toshiko. Tell her to move the TARDIS to the bed and breakfast. Have her get Chris, Chang, and Owen to help."

The car sped through the streets of Cardiff as Gwen dialled her mobile. "How well do you know Ms Smythe, Doctor?" Jack asked quietly, trying not to drown out Gwen's conversation.

"Oh, you could say that I know her rather well indeed. She travelled with me for a time when I had a rather bad taste in coats." He couldn't keep the fondness out of his voice.

"Good," Jack replied, apparently satisfied. He couldn't blame the former Time Agent. He'd be worried too. Dragging an old Type-40 into a shed in the back garden of someone you don't know wasn't exactly the best of plans. Then again, neither was endangering that same someone by merely being in the vicinity.

Gwen shut her mobile with a snap. "Twenty minutes," she reported.

"For the blokes from London to get here? Or for the TARDIS to get to Evelyn's?" Rose asked.

"Yes."

That was informative. Not to mention soon. Very soon. Well, he always worked best when faced with a deadline.

* * *

Jack fought the urge to sigh. It felt as if he were in the midst of an unravelling web, clinging to the strands of his life as they fell apart around him. This, he remembered, was what travelling with the Doctor was like. There were no constants, nothing to count on other than his friends.

He grasped the steering wheel tightly, causing his knuckles to turn white from the strength of his grip. He was worried. Not about the Doctor – not really – but about London, and what might happen. What ifs were killers, he well knew, but he couldn't help himself. He knew London's reputation, especially the fanatic in charge. If she got her hands on the Doctor and the TARDIS...

No. He wouldn't even think of that. All he had to do was to keep his charges safe for twenty-four hours. They'd just have to lay low for a while, which shouldn't be too difficult. Problem was that by disappearing for that amount of time, he'd automatically find himself under Torchwood's intense scrutiny. Though he'd managed to hide or erase his presence in Cardiff during the Blon Fel Fotch escapade, someone might've managed to save some type of evidence of his association with the Doctor. The Cardiff branch might not care, but London was something entirely different.

Great. Wonderful. Just meant he'd have to start again. Somewhere, somehow. Now that he'd seen the Doctor again, seen Rose, he was starting to think. Before, he couldn't see a future wherein he'd return to the TARDIS. Now, he dared to imagine the possibility. Back on the time ship, travelling through time and space, with the two people he loved most in the universe. It would be idyllic, perfect, and completely impossible.

Even if he wanted to go back, he couldn't. He'd been gone too long, done too much in the interim. The best he could hope for was to impose upon the Time Lord, ask him for a quick lift to somewhere he could get his hands on a new ship.

No. He wouldn't do that. It was too much like begging. Despite everything that had happened, he couldn't.

Some wounds couldn't heal by anything other than time. And that was a precious commodity that they had little of.

When he slowed to a stop just in front of the hostel some five minutes later, he was no closer to a decision on what he should do for his future than before. Best choice was to focus on the here and now and deal with what came next when it happened.

"Gwen, I'm going to need you to get back to the office," he said as he shifted the vehicle to park. There wasn't enough time for a proper goodbye not really. He was pragmatic enough to realise that this would probably be the last time he saw her. There were only two ways out of this particular situation that he could see – he'd either be dead or on the run from Torchwood. Neither of which leant to keeping in touch with friends. Right here, right now, the Jack Harkness that was a part of the Cardiff branch of Torchwood was dead, gone, and buried. There was just Captain Jack now.

He knew exactly what he'd do. If London came after the Doctor, he'd protect them. Protect them, no matter what. He'd already died once for him and he wouldn't regret doing it again.

Gwen nodded. "I was planning on it. I know you, Jack. You're not going to let them " - she nodded to the two in the backseat - "out of your sight. You need intel. I'll call you with updates. Get out of here, the lot of you. We can't stay stationary for long, Torchwood can track this car."

_Shit_, that was right. He'd almost forgotten that particular feature. No time at all. The Doctor and Rose were already climbing out of the car and he did the same, watching as Gwen slid across the seat to take his place.

She smiled sadly, reaching out to touch his hand briefly. "Good luck. And Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"See you in hell." She pulled the door shut and pulled away from the curb before he could formulate a response.

He was going to miss her. With a brief sigh, he turned and flashed a blinding smile at Rose and the Doctor. However, he knew that they'd seen right through him. There was no true emotion behind that smile. It was another facet of a perfectly carved mask – a mask that only they knew how to break. They were worried about him, but there was no reason to be. It was a fact of his life. Either he left or the people he loved left him.

He just had to survive the aftermath.

* * *

She wasn't fooled by Jack's smile. She had caught a glimpse of the expression on his face the instant before his mask had slipped back into place. It was the same look he'd worn on Satellite Five, just before he'd kissed her and the Doctor goodbye. It was déjà vu and her heart broke for him.

She wondered what thoughts were going through his head. Was he planning on coming with them when they left? Of course he was. He had to. There'd been a Jack-sized hole in her life – no, she amended, _their lives_ - since he'd been gone. Dead, or so she'd originally thought.

But he was here. With them. And he had to come home, back to them. She didn't want to think of the alternative. She'd only just found him again. She wasn't ready to lose him, not yet, not ever. Her lips still tingled from the memory of the kiss that they'd shared and, she admitted to herself, she wanted more. More from Jack and - she stole a glance at the Doctor - from the Time Lord.

_If wishes were horses..._

Jack crossed the distance between them quickly and nodded toward the door. "We can't stay out here for long. I haven't ordered surveillance on this place, but that doesn't mean someone else hasn't."

The Doctor nodded after shooting their friend a concerned glance. He, too, had seen behind the mask. But, like her, he probably wasn't certain what to do about it. They approached the door, but before he could do more than lift his hand the door swung open. Vaguely, she wondered if Evelyn was psychic.

"Doctor! Rose! Oh, you're back! I was terribly worried, you know. Sneaking off like that, without even leaving me a note!" Evelyn scolded. She paused for a long moment, apparently taking in their startled expressions before she smiled and stepped away from the door, gesturing for them to enter. "Well, don't just stand out there, come in! There's some hot cocoa warming on the stove. It's just the right touch for a story, don't you think? And I can tell you have a good one."

"Doctor Evelyn Smythe, I'd like to introduce you to-" the Doctor began, but Jack cut him off.

"Captain Jack Harkness, ma'am," Jack introduced himself, kissing the back of Evelyn's hand. Though it was a classic action on his part, something that she'd seen dozens of times, she knew his heart wasn't in it. He was going through the motions, but she couldn't tell why.

Evelyn shook her head, swatting at him. "Such a charmer. I'm retired now, Doctor. Call me Evelyn. Now come in, please." The older woman ushered them into the sitting room and, after brushing off her offer to help, bustled to the kitchen to pour them mugs of hot cocoa.

"Doctor?" Jack asked from one of the solitary chairs in the room. That he didn't sit next to them on the sofa was just as telling as his earlier expression. What on Earth was wrong with him? It was almost as if he were distancing himself on purpose, like he was expecting...

Oh. _Oh_. She could fill it in. Like he was expecting _to be left behind_. Distancing himself because he hoped it would hurt less. God, what had happened to him? Why was he expecting the worst? She longed to go to him, give him a comforting hug, kiss him, anything; but she could tell that it would do little good.

"Evelyn can keep a secret," the Doctor said, apparently in answer to an unspoken question.

"I should say so!" Evelyn said as she returned with steaming mugs of cocoa on a tray. She passed them out before claiming the last and taking a seat in the last free chair. "Or should I mention something about your singing prowess on the open sea?"

"No, no that won't be necessary," the Time Lord said quickly, looking rather guilty. "Right. Evelyn..."

Evelyn shook her head, holding up a hand. "Before you begin, though, Doctor, I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me? Whatever for?" he asked, confused.

"For my niece, of course. She's fine! Just popped out shopping, feeling right as rain. I haven't seen her that chipper since she was five years old, to tell you the truth."

"Oh, of course! Those vampires that Jack and Gwen killed – one of them must've been the one that bit Victoria." The Doctor's nose crinkled as he shook his head. "Convenient, that. Well, I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. At least, I think that's how that particular saying goes."

Evelyn smiled and turned to her. "Tell me, Rose. Does he still go on rants about random things? Toothpaste, jelly babies, the price of tea in China?"

She grinned. "Oh, all the time."

"Oi! If you want your story, Evelyn…" he warned, shaking his finger.

"All right, all right. Go on then, story time." Evelyn took a sip of her cocoa and looked expectantly at all of them.

"Where to start? Ah, yes. The beginning. We're near the end, you see, and I find it best to start stories with the line 'Once upon a vortex.' What? Oh, all right. It started such a short and a long time ago with a violent tremor…"

* * *

The TARDIS had arrived and was safely hidden in the old garden shed behind the hostel long before he had finished telling Evelyn what had happened to them. Several times Jack or Rose would fill in the bits that he didn't know since he had apparently spent an almost embarrassing amount of time unconscious over the past few days. Admittedly he had an excuse, but he preferred not to avail himself of it.

"Problem is now I'm being hunted. Not by aliens or anything of that sort – at least, not that I know of - but by Torchwood. I don't want to bring you into this, Evelyn, but we're out of options. We can't leave because there's nowhere for us to go. We can't travel inconspicuously with the TARDIS until she's finished her repairs. We've got eighteen hours to go before we can leave."

Evelyn shook her head. "Nonsense, Doctor. You're not bringing me into this, I'm volunteering. Of course you can stay for as long as you like."

"The London office isn't known for its compassion," Jack warned. "If they realise that we're here, nothing can stop them." That worried him. Ruthlessness was not a trait he admired in the human species.

He knew that Evelyn could handle herself and whatever sort of situation she came across with ease. Though she was older, she still had the same spark within her that had led her to travel with him. She'd be fine. He hoped.

Right. Enough of that.

Evelyn laughed and began to gather the empty mugs. "You might think this as terribly overconfident, but I'd like to see them try to get in here. I'll do everything I can to keep you, all of you, safe. I'll see to the sleeping arrangements. I'm afraid that you'll have to share your room with Jack, Doctor. I don't have enough room to house each of you separately tonight."

He caught Jack's slight wince and wondered about it. He knew that something was wrong, but what?

"That's fine," Jack replied, giving her a winning smile. The expression was false, just as much as his words were.

"Feel free to get anything out of the kitchen should you need it." With those words, Evelyn left the room.

"Jack, what's wrong?" Rose asked before he had the chance. "An' don't say nothin'. 'Cause it's not."

Jack looked stunned, almost as if he hadn't expected his charade to be discovered. However, he visibly deflated and shrugged. "I'm thinking about the future."

"Ah, yes, the future. Always a worthwhile subject to ponder. Except, of course, for when it isn't," he said, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. He was hurt to note that Jack's posture changed in response to his as the former Time Agent leaned back into his chair.

He sighed and continued, "I know that this has put you in a difficult position, Jack. If Torchwood finds that you've helped us..."

"They'll arrest me," Jack stated flatly, almost as if he were reading his death sentence. "And, knowing London, they'll throw away the key."

"So what're you going to do?" Rose asked. His hearts leapt into his throat as he waited for the answer. Surely he knew what options he had. No, he corrected himself, it wasn't an option. It was a necessity. A fact.

Jack shook his head. "Only one choice, really. I'll have to disappear. Start a new life somewhere else. Done it before. Can do it again. After that, it's just a matter of survival."

_One choice_? The words stung, though he knew they shouldn't. Didn't Jack know how he felt? Didn't he know that he was always welcome to come back home? No, wait. Probably not. He hadn't exactly been forthcoming, had he? More subtextual. "One choice? One! Jack, didn't you realise? You do have another choice. You always have."

"I do?" he asked, surprised.

What had he done to cause such doubt? Where had he gone wrong? "Of course you do! You can come with us. Back to the TARDIS, same old life. Well, sort of. We've changed, after all. New Jack. New Rose. New, new Doctor. I have smaller ears for one thing and I am rather fond of the hair. So, what do you say?"

His friend gaped at him in astonishment. However, before he could reply, the sharp trill of a mobile interrupted the conversation. The former Time Agent fumbled for the phone and flipped it open, answering with a terse, "Yeah?"

Jack's expression was fluid as he listened to the phone, varying from anger to astonishment to dismay. He knew it was bad news before the conversation had ended.

The other man's announcement only confirmed it. "They're coming."

_To be continued..._


	11. Chapter 11: Frying Pan Meet Fire

**Chapter 11: Frying Pan Meet Fire**

Wonderful. No - this situation called for the use of the previous incarnation of the Doctor's favourite word - _fantastic_. Not only did he have the sudden shock of realising that the Time Lord still wanted him to travel with them, he also had the wonderful news that London had found them. In a perfect world, he'd still be gaping at the Doctor, stunned.

Then again, he'd never deluded himself that life in any of its shapes or forms was perfect. It was hard. It was gritty. It was tough. And, most of the time, it wouldn't give him a break.

He forced all thoughts of the future out of his mind. Once everyone was safe, and the TARDIS was in one functional piece, he could think about it. For now his priority was to protect his charges. The future could wait.

According to Gwen, Torchwood was on its way, complete with shock troops. The idea that they thought they'd need such firepower was both flattering and disturbing. Flattering in that they thought that much of the Doctor's defensive capabilities and disturbing in that they were willing to use that much force here in suburban Cardiff.

Which meant they had to plan. There wasn't a lot of time left to them, Gwen had only been able to warn him they were coming after they'd already left. She'd suspected that they might be keeping an eye on her, so she couldn't be long. She gave him an ETA, about how many personnel to expect, mentioned that he was wanted for questioning, and the biggest warning of them all.

Yvonne Hartmann was coming, too.

Yup. The word 'fantastic' didn't even begin to cover it. So, first things first. "How much time do we have before the TARDIS'll be ready to fly?"

The Doctor frowned, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows. He wouldn't admit it to any other than himself, but he found the expression rather endearing. He also started to wonder what the Time Lord's lips would taste like. Like Rose's? Or something alien?

_Concentrate,_ he snapped to himself.

"She's rebuilding herself from the inside out. Her interior dimensions were scrambled from the force of our arrival." For some inexplicable reason, the Doctor reached over and squeezed Rose's hand, almost as if in apology or sympathy. "Forty-eight hours was a guess. At best, we can try again in at least another hour, maybe two."

He bit his lower lip. As expected, the news wasn't good. Story of his life. "Torchwood's bringing in their shock troops. And, even worse, Yvonne Hartmann is coming with them. She's the director of the London office and, by default, of all Torchwood. We're going to have to hold out against them until the TARDIS is ready for travel and then you-"

"_We_," the Doctor corrected, giving him an intent stare.

"-we," he acknowledged. But that was straying dangerously close to a consideration of the future. What mattered was now. Right now. Right here. And Torchwood was coming. "_We_ can get the hell out of here."

"How much time do we have before they get here?"

"Not long enough," he replied, shaking his head. "So, time for the assets discussion." Another case for déjà vu. The last time they'd had that particular talk, the Time Lord had been doing his best U-boat captain impression. He fiercely suppressed the pang of nostalgia.

The other man frowned and reached into his pocket, fishing through what items were buried inside it. Before he could pull anything out, he couldn't resist the urge. "Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

He was stunned as a slow smile crossed the Doctor's face as he answered enigmatically, "Yes."

He caught himself watching the Time Lord hungrily. Now wasn't the time. He forced himself to focus upon his task. "I have a sonic blaster, wrist comm, a conventional weapon, and some psychic paper."

Rose shrugged, holding out her hands. Right. Nothing there.

The Doctor started pulling a mixture of objects from his pockets, dumping them on Rose's lap. "A string, a ball of wool, a yo-yo… Oh! A first edition of Lewis Carroll's _Alice in Wonderland_, I'd wondered what had happened to that. A banana, sonic screwdriver, an assortment of change, a slingshot, and a washer. No, wait, make that two washers."

All of which meant they didn't have much of anything. He missed his old Chula warship. "Well, there went the assets discussion."

"Oh, we have even more powerful weapons than you can imagine, Jack," the Doctor said with a wide grin as he tapped the side of his head. "Intelligence. We can think our way out of this one. Simple. Easy. Either that or prattle our way out of it. When in doubt, prattle them into confusion."

Rose laughed, shaking her head. "Don't you mean prattle them into a coma?"

The Time Lord shot her a wounded look. He fought the urge to cradle his head between his hands.

No assets beyond intelligence. Right. "Knowing Torchwood's standard operations, they'll first surround the house to cover all exits. They might start by knocking on the door, playing nice with the locals. But they might not. Yvonne's not known for her favourable handling of civilians who get in her way."

"So how can we stop them?" Rose asked.

He smiled grimly. "We can't. We just have to delay them long enough for the TARDIS to be healed. Problem is we'll have problems keeping the ship and ourselves safe. The TARDIS is in the shed outside. While it's not visible, it's easy to get to – for both us and Torchwood. We don't want them to get their hands on it."

"Can we, I dunno, hide it somehow? Cover it in blankets or something?"

He shook his head. "They know the basic shape of the TARDIS. Covering it with a blanket wouldn't work for very long. Our best choice is a distraction. I can handle that." He grinned, patting his sonic blaster. "All I have to do is lead them on a merry chase through Cardiff. Give you the time you need to get into the ship and get out of here."

He was startled by the intensity of the Doctor's reaction. "And you'd get yourself caught and locked up by that woman you're so bothered over in the process. Or worse, you'd get yourself killed. And that'd be dead dead this time. No miraculous resurrection. No second chances. Well, my answer is no. I already lost you once, Jack Harkness. I'm not losing you again."

Amazement rushed through him as he stared, flabbergasted, at the Time Lord. Impossible. That was impossible. He'd thought... No. He'd been wrong, hadn't he?  
"Then what do you suggest?" he asked, thankful that his voice didn't falter.

The Doctor grinned. "We improvise."

* * *

He wished that he could spend more time trying to convince Jack that he was telling him the truth. More time convincing him that he meant every word that he'd said. _Come back. I don't want to lose you again. Please, Jack. I lo..._ They were words that he'd never said. Not to Jack. Not to Rose.

Time, however, was running out. He could feel the seconds slip into minutes, each tick of the old grandfather clock bringing Torchwood that much closer. Which meant it was time to improvise. Assets weren't just physical objects, they were mental ones as well. He'd just have to out-think the human agents of Torchwood. That was easy. Simple. He was a Time Lord. They didn't have a chance.

Except for the small matter of ruthlessness. He had no illusions that Torchwood wouldn't resort to measures he'd balk at. Threaten the life of an innocent, for example.

So, improvisation. He shouldn't boast, but he was brilliant at improvising in the face of impossible odds. He'd always been the sort of man that liked doing at least six impossible things before breakfast – well, he amended as he glanced at the clock, before dinner. And this was just that type of situation.

Impossible was just a word, after all. A single, simple, tiny word. It meant so much, yet so little. He could face the impossible and change it. Alter it. Impossible, to him, was just improbable with a few added and subtracted letters.

"What're you thinking of improvising?" Rose asked.

"I'll tell you once I think of it. The best improvisations are done at the last minute as you well know," he replied. He grinned madly at her and she merely rolled her eyes in response.

He was about to continue, but Evelyn's return interrupted him. "Doctor, mind telling me why you're holding a council of war without me? And don't bother to tell me otherwise because I know you. Especially when it comes to your particular talents – or lack thereof – of improvisation. Remember the _Adventurer's Fancy_?" She paused in the doorway, looking at him with one of her disapproving looks that she normally reserved for her students and for him. In her arms, she carried a basket full of bandages and antiseptics.

He winced, not just from her words but from the reminder that the kit provided. He'd almost forgotten about his shoulder – if he didn't move it overly much, it was a dull ache he could easily ignore. And, as for the _Adventurer's Fancy_, she would bring that up again. First it was to remind him of his singing and now it was accusations of an inability to improvise. "Evelyn, Torchwood's found us. I'd like you to..."

"Get out of the way? Find a nice, safe spot to hide away in until they've come and gone? I'll do nothing of the sort. You'll need me," Evelyn replied, shaking her head as she came to his side and began to pull out what she needed from the basket. "When they come, I'll answer the door and send them on their way again. Simple as that."

"These aren't nice people. They won't let anyone stand in their way, especially when it comes to the Doctor," Jack cautioned. He could tell that the other man was worried. Very worried. Especially about the upcoming arrival of Yvonne Hartmann.

And, he admitted to none other than himself, he was worried too. But, where there was life, there was hope. Or however that went.

She drew herself to her full height – though the effect was somewhat hampered by her battered orange cardigan and the unrolled bandage in her hand. "Then they'll suffer me to stand in their way. They sound like typical university students and I've had years to learn how to properly handle them."

"Evelyn, please," he cajoled, hoping that she'd listen to him. "I don't want you to get hurt."

She stood her ground, wrapping the bandage around his shoulder and pulling it tight enough to cause him to wince. "I'm going to help." She then began to put the bandages away.

Jack seemed to recognise that Evelyn could be rather stubborn. "You can," the former Time Agent said, standing. "Tell me about the entrances to this house. Just the two? Front and back? Any bushes, or..." The other man escorted Evelyn out of the room, still firing rapid-shot questions at her until their voices faded into a murmur.

"I like her," Rose said as she leaned against him. He savoured the contact, wrapping his uninjured arm securely around her. For the moment, despite the knowledge that Torchwood was coming and that, inevitably, they'd be in more danger than before, he was glad for the temporary reprieve.

"Me too," he replied and they sat in companionable silence.

The silence was broken as Rose spoke softly. "Doctor, I wanted to thank you. For earlier. For helpin' me take control of the Bad Wolf."

He smiled, pulling her tighter against him. "You don't have to thank me. It was all you. _You_ took control and _you_ freed yourself. I was just there to watch." He shook his head as he amended, "Well, when I wasn't unconscious."

"Couldn't've done it without you," Rose denied, lifting her head to look him in the eye. He found himself distracted by her expression, her lips, her nearness.

It'd take only a thought to close the distance between them. Only a second. Only the merest few centimetres separated them. He could kiss her, he realised. It'd just take a thought...

Her eyes were sliding shut as she tilted her head further, almost as if she could read his mind. He blinked and tried to regain his composure, but failed utterly. He started to duck his head and the doorbell rang.

* * *

She bit back a curse or, rather, several dozen. She'd been so certain, almost positive, that the Doctor had been about to kiss her. Instead, once the doorbell rang, he pulled away from her and stood, looking down at her with an unfathomable look in his eyes. "Stay here," he told her and headed for the door.

Like she'd stay anywhere without him, let alone when he might be putting himself in danger. She darted after him, pausing when he turned to gaze at her. She could see resignation in his expression. Good. He knew she'd follow him whatever happened.

The Doctor opened the door and stood in the doorway, blocking the interior from whoever was outside. "Hello?"

"Oh, this must be my lucky day!" a woman replied, laughter colouring her words. "I thought you'd put up a fight, Doctor. But, instead, you come straight to the door. Lovely, really, just lovely."

She could tell that he was taken aback by the woman's familiar tone. "I thought it best we talk face to face, de hombre a hombre. No, wait, that implies that you're a man. Which you aren't. At least, I assume you're not. Are you?"

"Your sense of humour does you credit. My name's Director Yvonne Hartmann, Torchwood. And you should have someone with you. A companion. Generally female, young, and clever. Tell me, Doctor, where is she?" the woman asked.

"She's not here," he replied tightly.

"That's where you're lying. I've seen the photographs from Millennium Centre. You were in the company of a blonde-haired girl. Where is she?" Yvonne asked again and something in her tone sent chills down her spine. Though she kept her voice level, there was something almost fanatical about her.

The Doctor motioned with his hand for her to keep back, keep hidden. She glanced around the narrow hallway, finally deciding to duck behind a heavy-looking wooden chest. It didn't offer much cover, but it was close enough for her to help the Doctor should he need it. And, knowing him, he would.

"I already told you, Director. She's not here."

Yvonne laughed. "I'm disappointed, Doctor. We could've been friends. But you're still lying to me." There was a rustling sound behind her as someone else came to the door. "Steve, take a couple of agents with you and search the grounds. It is Steve, right?"

"Yes, yes it is ma'am," a startled voice replied.

"Good. Now find my prize. And do tell Sean to search the house. He can go around back."

"Yes, Director," the newly identified Steve said and footsteps indicated his departure.

"You can't enter this house! It's private property, Director Hartmann. I do hope you have a warrant," the Doctor scolded, shifting his stance.

"I don't need a warrant. We have broad powers granted to us by the Queen. You have no say in this. You are under arrest for high treason against the crown. Anyone who was with you, anyone who helped you – and this includes your wayward companion and Jack Harkness – will be placed under arrest as well. There is no possibility of parole. You are a dangerous alien element. And now, Doctor, you belong to us."

"I don't belong to anyone other than myself! And if I don't agree to come with you?" the Doctor asked.

She leaned forward, straining her senses to hear Yvonne's reply. She heard the creak of the floorboards behind her, but she dismissed it as Jack. At least until she felt the arm wrap around her neck and yank her to her feet, cutting off her shout with a choking grip.

"Oh, that's simple," Yvonne said. "Your friends will suffer for it. Starting with your companion."

_To be continued..._


	12. Chapter 12: Rescue

**Chapter 12: Rescue**

Jack Harkness had always been good at maths. Linear, trans-temporal, quadratic equations. Curves and lines and angles. But his forte had always been in the simplest of mathematics – the comparison of value. When it came to someone he loved, their life (or lives as the case might be) had a greater value than his own. They had taught him that – the Doctor and Rose. Selflessness in the face of battle. Selflessness for a friend. Selflessness when it came to saving others.

In the equation of Doctor and Rose versus Jack, he knew whose lives he valued more. He'd died once before. He wasn't afraid to do it again. But, if he was going to save them, he had to move and quickly.

It'd taken some convincing – _rather forceful convincing_, he thought without remorse as he flexed his hand, trying to get the kinks out of his joints. It'd been forever since he'd had to use that particular nerve pinch, especially through a heavy sweater. She'd just wake up with a headache, but it was better that than injury or even death – to make Evelyn stay behind, hidden in the cellar. She'd be safe as long as she didn't make a sound. Torchwood wasn't after her; they were after the Doctor.

He had to be quiet, careful, as he crossed the kitchen. The floor boards might creak, signalling his presence with all the subtlety of a shout. When he reached the entrance to the corridor, he paused.

Sounds filtered down the hallway, but he could only catch snippets of the words.

_…under arrest for high treason..._

_…Doctor, you belong to us…_

_..myself!..._

_…Your friends will suffer. Starting with..._

He knew that particular sound. Knew what could make it. It was the sound of a struggle. It only took a moment to peer around the corner. Only a second to see that a man had Rose in a headlock. He slowly reached for his blaster. He could try stunning the Torchwood agent and give Rose the chance to get away. However, he had to move slowly. Very, very slowly. A sudden movement might catch their attention.

Though the Doctor didn't raise his voice, he could hear every word. "Oh, I'm going to be calm about this, Director Yvonne Hartmann. Very, very calm. And you know why? Because if you do not have your man release Rose this instant, you will not like the consequences."

Yvonne laughed, apparently delighted. "You're exactly like the stories have claimed, Doctor. You'd do anything to keep your charges safe. Anything at all. And that is why you will not resist. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your new home."

If he couldn't get them away from Yvonne's people now, he could wait until the TARDIS could be opened. He knew the Hub – provided, of course, that they went there and not back to London – inside and out. It'd just be a matter of taking a short trip in the TARDIS, breaking them out, and then leaving Earth behind.

It could work.

"No."

_No?_

"No?" Yvonne repeated.

"No." He could imagine the Doctor's expression, though it was hidden by layers of plaster and ratty wallpaper. If it had been the Doctor's previous incarnation, Yvonne should've been running for the hills by now. He suspected that, if anything, this particular version had less mercy than the last. Especially when it came to those who threatened the woman he loved.

"What do you mean 'no'? There's nothing you can do, Doctor, beyond prattle and make vague threats," the Director scoffed.

Now he could practically see a slow smile spread across the Time Lord's face in his mind. "And that bothers you, doesn't it? Thinking that I might know something you don't – which I do, by the way. Lots of things, really. Like dimensional and relative chronometry, transdimensional physics, how to beat a Galadorn at chess, forty-two, string theory, the exact airspeed of an unladen swallow to the sixth decimal place – both European and African - and how to make the best chocolate cake this side of the Milky Way. When I say 'no', I mean no."

He started to slide the blaster from its holster. He'd need just a few more seconds to change its setting to stun. Once that was done, he could rescue Rose.

"Enough," Yvonne snapped. "You do not want to hassle me. You wouldn't like the results. Sean, bring the girl. Doctor, you will come with me now. And _that_ wasn't a request."

"Let her go," the Doctor snarled. "I'll go with you only if you release her."

The Director laughed. "Oh, you actually think you have a _choice_? You're coming with us whether you like it or not."

He heard Rose gag as the agent tightened his hold, apparently under Yvonne's direction. Anger boiled within him at the sound. He threw caution to the wind as he changed the setting on his blaster and stepped out of cover. He had to move down the hallway to get a clear shot but, once he had it, he'd use it.

The choking sounds died away as Rose began to weakly cough. "You see, Doctor? You don't have a choice at all."

He could imagine the Doctor's face, the anguish that would be written in his eyes, the anger that echoed his own. No. He heard them start to move, heard Rose's muffled protests as she tried to free herself from the goon's grip. _Damnit!_

Almost there, just a bit closer, and…yes. There it was. Prime shot. He wouldn't admit it to any other than himself, but he looked forward to a bit of revenge. _This is for Rose_, he thought as he aimed. And froze as the barrel of a gun was pressed against his head.

"Well, what do we have here?" an amused voice asked even as he heard the ominous click of the safety's release.

* * *

He squared his shoulders and led the way out of the hostel, making the appearance that his actions were entirely his idea rather than forced. Though his expression was calm, his inner thoughts were churning as he tried to determine a means of getting out of this particular predicament. He could escape – despite the guns, despite the number of personnel, there was hope. A little Venusian Aikido here, dodging there, and a good dosage of luck would be all he'd need. 

However, he was effectively shackled. Rose was in danger and he wouldn't leave her. Couldn't leave her.

They could capture him. They could lock him up and throw away the key, but they never realised the truth.

Where there was life, there was hope.

Most of his foes knew the best way to hold onto him was to threaten those he cared about. What they normally didn't realise until it was too late was that the absolute worst thing to do was just that. Especially now. He used to be so full of mercy, giving out second chances with the ease of handing out a jelly baby. Not anymore.

Not now. And not with Yvonne Hartmann.

Besides, he had an ace up his sleeve. Well, not literally – or figuratively either. He resolutely ignored the pang of nostalgia and grief for a certain nitro-nine, baseball bat-toting former companion. He had Jack. There was no better backup.

"Stop struggling, girl! You can't escape," Yvonne snapped as Rose tried to kick herself free, almost striking the Director with her movements.

"Oh, getting a little touchy aren't we, Director Hartmann?" he taunted. "Feeling control slipping away? Problematic, isn't it?" He was about to continue when a shout from behind them caused him to pause.

"Director! We found him!" someone called. "We didn't even have to look."

Oh no. No, no, no. His hearts sank as he slowly turned around, already anticipating what he'd see. Sure enough, it was. Jack looked furious as he was forced down the stairs and onto the garden path.

"Oh, lovely! Jack Harkness, too. Were you counting on his help, Doctor?" Yvonne asked, smiling brightly at him. She must've seen something in his expression as she added, "Sorry to disappoint."

She might know of him through research, but there was one thing that research couldn't do. It couldn't give anyone insight into his mind. It was too complex, he was too complex, to be categorised by human psychology. Yvonne Hartmann expected him to act like a human. Expected him to rail against the injustice, fight against her with his words, or even just express crushing defeat. She wanted him to fail, wanted to see him realise that there was no way out.

Yvonne Hartmann didn't know him at all.

He grinned at the Director of the Torchwood Institute and said nothing, letting his expression say it all. Perhaps one plan was defeated before it had even begun, but there were others. There were always others. Life equals hope equals escape.

The moment she started getting edgy was the moment he congratulated himself on his plan or, rather, lack of one. She knew his hope hadn't been crushed, that he was still plotting and planning, seeing the possibilities. And it scared her, made her nervous, made her wonder and, ideally, she would start to make mistakes because of it.

"Move," Yvonne snapped, her edginess transferring to her voice.

He toyed with the idea of refusing to walk toward Torchwood's vehicles. Or, even, turning and walking in a different direction. However, he did neither. The threat of injury to either Rose or Jack was enough to restrain him – for now. His mind worked furiously to try and solve this particular problem, but nothing was coming to him. He'd solved Furnellian's equations, saved planets, defeated megalomaniacs, and faced Jackie Tyler. Escaping with limbs and companions in one piece should be simple in comparison.

It wasn't.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rose still struggling against her captor. Thankfully, the agent had chosen to release his choke hold on her and was, instead, tightly gripping her arms. "What're you going to do with us?" Rose asked.

"To start with?" Yvonne's tone was thoughtful. "Well, you and Mister Harkness can consider yourselves hostages to the Doctor's good behaviour. One false move on his part and you will suffer. As long as he cooperates, you'll be treated well."

"You mean we're gonna be prisoners," Rose replied, her voice bitter. "For what? 'Cause you want to study the Doctor?"

The Director laughed. "Oh, only in part. We are rather curious about his physiology. No, what we want is his mind."

"You want my mind?" he asked, incredulous. "Because you're overawed by my brilliance? Because you'd like to know the secret of my ability to multi-task? Or would that be because you're terribly envious of my dress sense? Or, oooh, my sense of humour? My ability to prattle? My-"

"No. Because you can teach us, Doctor. You know so much about aliens and alien technology. We want that knowledge and you're going to provide it to us for the glory of the British Empire," Yvonne declared.

He shook his head. "And I've been accused of living in my past. Or my future. Well, really both if you want to be technical about it. You're deluding yourself, Director. There is no British Empire, not anymore."

"There will be thanks to you."

She was insane. A lunatic. A fanatic of the worst sort. However, fanatics had their quirks, their buttons to push. And he loved pressing buttons, especially those associated with people that had megalomaniacal tendencies.

He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of Yvonne's curse. "The nerve of those bloody idiots! Thinking they can just swan in here... Sean, keep an eye on the Doctor and the others. I'll take care of this." The Director walked toward the street, intent on reaching what appeared to be transports.

Military transports. Beautiful, brilliant, drab green military troop transports and a command vehicle. And each one was emblazoned with a very familiar logo.

_UNIT – United Nations Intelligence Taskforce._

Oh, yes! He loved it when a plan came together – even when the plan wasn't necessarily his idea in the first place.

The first person to climb out of the command vehicle was as familiar to him as the logos. Though he hadn't seen her in years – hundreds to be precise – she didn't look any different. Maybe she had a few more wrinkles and a few more grey hairs, but Brigadier Winifred Bambera had the exact same presence. The sound of another slamming door indicated that someone else had exited the vehicle, but they were hidden by the bulk of the car and the two women that were in front of it.

Bambera pointedly ignored Yvonne's approach and turned toward the troop transports. "Set up a perimeter! Move, move, move!"

"Just what do you think you're doing?" The Director's voice was loud enough to carry over the sound of the dozens of soldiers jumping out of the transports. "You are interfering in British internal affairs. I demand that you and your troops leave this city immediately. I also demand a full apology for your disruption of official government business."

"I am carrying out my orders. Director Yvonne Hartmann, I presume?" Bambera asked, a knowing smile playing across her lips. For a moment, he was reminded of a predator toying with its prey. "Brigadier Winifred Bambera, UNIT CO."

"Yes, I'm Director Hartmann. However, your orders do not and cannot include the interference in official government activities. I will repeat my earlier demands. Take your troops and leave this city immediately. You are in violation of the United Nations treaty regarding activities performed on sovereign soil," Yvonne replied.

"Oh, but I do have that authority, Director. Your agency is hereby informed that under the authority of the Top Secret United Nations Security Act 1325 slash bravo, the Doctor, his associates – be they companions, relatives of those companions, or friends – and his properties are protected in perpetuity by UNIT and the authority of the United Nations on behalf of the grateful peoples of the world." Bambera took a step toward Yvonne and stared down at her. "It's my understanding that you currently have in your custody the Doctor and his friends. You will release them immediately."

Now _that_ was unexpected. On one hand, he was grateful to Brigadier Bambera for the timely rescue, but on the other he worried at the idea of being 'protected' in perpetuity. However, the idea that his friends and their families would be safe from harm was appealing. He wasn't entirely certain what to think, actually.

"No, I won't. That's impossible," Hartmann denied, shaking her head violently. "How could you've known? Let alone come up with this fictitious act of yours."

The answer to Yvonne's question moved around the vehicle and smiled. Gwen Cooper put her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket and replied, "I'd say that'd be because of me, Director Hartmann."

"It's amazing what a little intelligence, a little research, and a lot of favours from Geneva can pull in a short amount of time," the Brigadier said. "I suggest you let the Doctor and his friends go before, under _my_ authority, you and your personnel are remanded to your government for punishment."

Yvonne took a deep breath – he could see the rise of her shoulders – and folded her arms before her. Though he couldn't see her face, he could imagine what it must look like. Belligerence, defiance, and perhaps a little shock must be in her expression. The question, however, was whether or not she would give in.

If she didn't, there was only one way that this particular standoff could end.

In blood.

_To be continued..._

* * *

_I won't be posting the final chapter as usual tomorrow evening. The last chapter will be posted on Monday. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! I'm glad that you're enjoying the story :)_


	13. Chapter 13: Happy Endings

**Chapter 13: Happy Endings**

Jack stared at the tableau before him, noting the motions of the people around him in detail. There, an agent shifted nervously, his fingers edging toward the trigger of his gun. There, a UNIT soldier caught the movements, his eyes narrowing as he moved to cover the agent. There, the Doctor - his back tense - watched as Brigadier Bambera stared down at Director Yvonne Hartmann. And, to his side, Rose had ceased her struggles and mimicked his movements, her gaze flicking from side to side as she caught the almost palpable tension between UNIT and Torchwood.

He'd been in enough situations such as this to know that it would only take a moment for the wrong move, the wrong word, or the wrong expression to cause the delicate balance to break into battle. He braced himself, intent on breaking away from the agent guarding him and then barrelling into Rose's captor if the situation degraded further.

Everything depended on Director Hartmann's next words. Across the lawn of the hostel, more agents and soldiers began to twitch as the silent conflict between the Brigadier and Yvonne stretched.

Seconds faded into minutes and nothing was said. Just a quiet war of gazes, each one willing the other to drop, to give in, to give up. He looked at Gwen and said another silent goodbye. He'd said his goodbyes to the others earlier, if only in his mind, but he hoped that this wouldn't be the end. It couldn't end like this, not when there was so much left to do. Not when he had yet to answer the Doctor's question as to whether he'd return to the TARDIS. It couldn't.

When they finally came, the words were almost too soft for him to hear. "Let them go," Yvonne bit out the words, each one an apparent torture. "We're finished here."

One by one the Torchwood agents stepped away and holstered their weapons. The bruising grip on his arms was released and the man that had been guarding him pointedly put some distance between them. "Your weapon, Harkness," the agent said, holding out his sonic blaster.

He grinned and took the device, sliding it back into its holster. "Thanks."

Yvonne turned around and stared at the Doctor, her very posture a threat. "I'll see you again, Doctor. That's a promise."

"Oh, are you planning on inviting me over for a cuppa? Or just to lament that you've been stonewalled? I'd say sorry about that if I meant it, but I don't," the Time Lord replied and he could hear the grin in his voice.

"This isn't over," Yvonne vowed.

"Yes it is," Bambera interrupted. "And that is UNIT's guarantee."

With as much of her battered dignity as she could muster, Yvonne countered, "We'll see about that, Brigadier. Agents, we're going back to the Institute." In the flurry of motion from the suited personnel and the thump of car doors, she paused, her hand on the car door handle. "Oh, and Agent Cooper? Agent Harkness?"

"Yes, Director?" Gwen asked absently, as she moved to join him. He didn't even bother to acknowledge that Yvonne had spoken to him.

"You're fired."

Gwen pointedly winked at him and grinned. "Too bad, I already quit."

He stared at her in shock even as, in the background, a car door slammed and, with the rumble of car engines, Torchwood left the hostel. "You quit?"

Gwen nodded. "Soon as I learned what Yvonne was planning, I turned in my resignation letter. Admittedly, that was after I called someone mentioned in Torchwood's files on the Doctor. A Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. Nice man, rather gruff, but typical military despite being retired. He still has some pull in Geneva and this, well, this was the result."

Words didn't seem to have enough substance to explain how he felt about her actions. She'd saved his life and, most especially, the lives of the Doctor and Rose. "Thank you doesn't even cover it, Gwen."

"No," she replied, grinning as she pulled him into a brief hug. "But it'll do."

Rose had joined the Doctor and, together, they faced the Brigadier. He could hear only parts of their conversation as most of his attention was on Gwen's explanation what else had happened at Torchwood after her call.

_…Blimey, it's almost like a walk down memory lane…_

…Ancelyn? Oh, he's fine. He'd be here, but he's busy minding the Torch…

…Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart wanted me to pass on his regards, as well as a request that you pop by for a visit, just mind the rhododendrons…

That was when his attention was captured by another voice. A very familiar voice. A very angry and familiar voice. "Jack Harkness!" Evelyn. _Oh, hell, Evelyn._ He'd almost forgotten about her. He turned toward the house and watched as she advanced on him, her very posture a threat. He suddenly understood all too well what her students must have felt like if they'd done something wrong. "You hadn't the right to do that."

He swallowed. "Evelyn, I didn't want you getting hurt. It was safer for you in the cellar..."

"Safer? Safer! Honestly, Jack, I travelled with the Doctor for years. There is no place that's truly 'safe'. Besides, you told me you wanted to check the locks on the cellar's external doors. Not keep me safe!" Evelyn said. She folded her arms in front of her in a gesture he knew was calculated to make him feel guilty.

"And I did," he replied. "But I wanted to..."

"Protect me," she completed the sentence on the breath of a sigh. "What is it with you lot?" She must've caught his confused expression as she continued, "Men. Human or alien, doesn't matter. They think they've got to protect me just because I'm a woman. Honestly!"

"It's not that!" he protested. And it wasn't.

"Or is because I'm old?" Evelyn asked, dropping her arms to brace her hands on her hips.

He shook his head mutely, wondering how on Earth he was going to get out of this one. It wasn't because of her age or her gender. He just genuinely didn't want to see her hurt. It didn't even matter that he'd barely met her, but he considered her a friend. He'd do the same for anyone.

"Evelyn! Wondered where you'd got to," the Doctor said as he deliberately inserted himself between the two of them and placed his hands on Evelyn's shoulders. "Now, Evelyn, don't kill the former head of the Cardiff branch of Torchwood. He was only doing what he thought was his duty. Believe me; he would've done the same with anyone."

Evelyn shook her head and sighed. "Are you sure of that?"

He couldn't see the Doctor's face, but he could hear the grin in his voice. "Positively positive. Honest. Oh, and Jack, did I mention that there's a lovely restaurant on the far side of Malkaresh IV that has the best examples of trilk'nik'ta this side of the Milky Way? Also has a brilliant view of the twin sunsets. Fancy a visit?"

"Doctor, you're bein' rude again," Rose scolded from his side, tugging on the Time Lord's sleeve.

"I am?" the Doctor asked, brow furrowing in confusion. Understanding dawned as he seemed to note Evelyn's posture. "Oh, apparently I am. Sorry about that. Meant to say I'm glad that you're all right, Evelyn. And Gwen, Bambera would like to have a word with you. She mentioned something about a job opportunity."

Gwen gave him a look of astonishment before she excused herself to join the Brigadier.

Evelyn just shook her head. "Doctor, you never change."

The Doctor blinked. "I change all the time! Well, not all the time. But sometimes. Change bodies, style, personalities. I even change my Chucks."

"Ah, but you're still you," Evelyn corrected. "Now I'm going back inside. You're welcome to come in for some cocoa, but I believe that this is enough excitement for me for one day."

Jack looked at her carefully at that moment, but she seemed to be okay. Probably just a headache, but the Doctor looked sad as he nodded. "Okay. And Evelyn?"

"Yes, Doctor?" she asked.

"Thanks for everything," the Time Lord said and tugged her into a tight embrace. When the Doctor pulled away from Evelyn and stepped back, he was rewarded with a brilliant smile. However, the Doctor's expression was still sad as he smiled in response.

"You're welcome."

"Doctor?" he asked once Evelyn was out of ear shot. "What's...?"

The Time Lord shook his head. "We're not meant to know the future. Right. I'll go check the TARDIS. If everything's in order - and I'm sure it is - we'll be able to head off within the next hour or two. Is there anything you want to bring with us, Jack?"

Oh, right. An answer. He still owed the Doctor an answer. The battle was done, the good guys had won, and now he could think about the future. The future. He'd pushed it away, ignored it in favour of the fight against Torchwood, so much so that he'd almost forgotten the question, the offer.

"That is…you are coming with us, right?" the Doctor asked hopefully. From his side, Rose looked at him with the same question in her eyes, the same hope.

Possible futures were opened before him and all he had to do was choose. And he wasn't sure he knew how to answer.

* * *

How many times? How many faces? How many moments in his nine-hundred odd (well, more than that, but he'd always been fond of his nine-hundreds) years had he been stuck in this same situation? Not many, admittedly, but each one hurt just as much.

He didn't want this to be goodbye or even a 'see you later'. He wanted 'good mornings' and 'hellos' and 'goodnights' spanning months, years, decades. Though he knew it was impossible, that forever was a meaningless word, it didn't meant he couldn't wish for it, hope for it. He wanted Jack back on the TARDIS as it should be, temporal anomalies be damned.

However, as he watched the hesitation cross Jack's face, he worried. Would he say no? Would he refuse to come home? Was this - the unintentional abandonment on Satellite Five - a wound that would never heal? He wouldn't beg, he never begged, but this time he was tempted. Sorely tempted.

_Did I mention it also travels in time?_

"Jack?" Rose asked, stepping away from his side to touch the other man's arm. "Are you gonna come home?"

Jack stared at her for a long moment, his gaze flicking between them both. He could almost see the thoughts churning in the other man's expression, weighing his options. He had no right to influence that choice. No right to try and force him to come back to the TARDIS. No right to manipulate him into making the one choice that he - the Doctor - could live with.

He felt every single second of his age in that instant of silence. He wouldn't acknowledge that it was trepidation he felt. Wouldn't acknowledge how much he truly cared. No, he corrected himself, how much he truly loved. With a soft sigh, he decided that he'd been associating with humans for far too long.

He knew how Jack would reply. That was the only possible answer as to why he was delaying for so long. A second, he'd long ago learned, could easily stretch to eternity.

The former Time Agent suddenly grinned that carefree and debonair grin that he felt like he hadn't seen in years. "Well, I did just lose my second job and I suppose I never really did give up my first. Time Lord's companion sounds fantastic to me. So just you try and stop me," Jack said.

Rose let out a squeal of joy and launched herself into Jack's arms, planting a kiss on the other man's lips. In another lifetime, perhaps, it would've bothered him to watch them kiss. Now, he just settled for a fond smile and ignored the tiny voice inside of him that urged him to join in.

However, Rose had other ideas. Once she'd extracted herself from Jack, she switched to him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight with the same joyful glee that she'd exhibited with Jack. His arms wrapped around her automatically, holding her close.

The feel of her heartbeat fluttering against his chest was enough to cause his hearts to skip a beat or two. It was dangerous, he knew. Far, far too dangerous for him to keep accepting these touches, for needing them, for desiring them. Each day it grew harder and, after almost losing her - this time, permanently - it was that much worse.

But she was here. Jack was here. And everyone was coming home. He tightened his embrace for a moment and let her go, but not before he pressed a tender kiss against her hair. It was the only contact, the only kiss, he could allow himself. Any more and he was afraid that he might not be able to stop.

"Welcome back, Jack," he said and, without even thinking about it, he opened his arms in an unspoken invitation.

Jack took it, crossing to him quickly and pulling him into another hug. It was different from Rose, where she was soft curves, he was hard lines, but the underlying emotion was just the same. When they finally separated, he smiled brightly at the other man. "Is there anything you're going to need before we go?"

The former Time Agent shook his head. "Got everything I need right here."

He grinned. "Then I'll go check the TARDIS. Back in a jiff!" A jiff? Had he just said he'd be back in a jiff? "Another word I'll try to avoid in the future."

And, with that, he marched off toward the TARDIS.

Thankfully, the garden shed hadn't been disturbed since he'd last been there. It creaked in protest as he opened the door, casting light into the darkness. The blue police box looked far better than she had several hours before. Admittedly, he'd been concerned about Reapers at the time and hadn't truly tried to determine how much longer they'd have until she was healed, but he had seen enough to know that it would've been some time. Now, however, the hum that was essentially her heartbeat was stronger and the edges of her exterior shell were sharp and distinct.

He slid his key into the lock and, this time, it turned easily. He opened the doors and stepped inside the dim console room. She felt smaller, but he knew that that would change. She was still repairing herself and, if he hadn't missed his guess, at least thirty percent of her interior structure still needed to be rebuilt.

However, the rest of her was intact. The important bits, at least. Environmental controls, gravity, and their ability to travel through time and space. He planned on going easy on the old girl, give her time to heal. Drifting about the Vortex for a day or two would be best, especially if it meant getting away from Cardiff as quickly as possible.

It didn't matter how often he ended up in Wales, he could never manage to leave quickly enough. At least not without some sort of injury or adventure or mishap occurring before he could escape. This time, he'd almost lost Rose. No, worse than that, he'd almost had to kill her.

He braced himself against the console, letting his head bow as the weight of the past several days tried to crush him. She was back, yes. She was safe, yes. But he knew things would be different now. Bad Wolf wasn't just a memory, not anymore. She knew what had happened when she'd held all of time and space in her grasp. She knew that he'd kissed her, that he'd died for her. But, despite that knowledge, there was so much left unsaid.

He'd always fancied himself a man of action, despite his tendency to prattle. He could say so much and yet have it all be nothing more than babble. In his actions, he tried to tell her how he felt. In his actions, he told her he loved her.

Now, he suspected that that wouldn't be enough. Not anymore. Not when she'd been the Bad Wolf and a vampire and had manipulated time and space to save them. Then again, he'd never needed to hear the words. He knew. Yet he found that he wouldn't mind hearing them. In fact, he wanted to.

He really _had_ been spending too much time amongst humans.

Then there was Jack. No matter how much of a temporal anomaly he was, no matter what his people might've said about his continued existence, nothing had changed from one regeneration to the next. He still loved him. Still cared enough to ask him to come back. Better with three.

The events of the past few days replayed themselves in his mind, chasing over and over again in a never-ending cycle. The betrayal, the hurt, the anguish, the loss, the grief, all filtered through him and he thought he might lose his mind from the intensity of the emotions. Only one facet of the events was over, now they had to deal with the aftermath. He was certain that nothing would ever be the same again.

"Doctor?" Rose's voice was tentative and it caused him to startle at the sound. "You okay? Jack an' I were worried. You've been in here for hours an'…"

Hours? He blinked and realised that his legs did feel rather stiff. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said and turned toward her, no, them. Jack was just behind Rose.

"Is the TARDIS okay?" she asked. He thought that there was another question veiled within the first.

"She'll be fine. A few days drifting in the Vortex and the swimming pool will be back better than ever," he replied, grinning.

A myriad of expressions crossed her face before one began to dominate, a look that he knew far too well. Guilt. Intense guilt. "Doctor, 'M sorry about the TARDIS. I shouldn't've..."

He shook his head as he crossed the distance between them, tilting her chin when she refused to look at him. "No, you did exactly what you should've done, Rose. It's a textbook causal loop. If you hadn't brought us here, you never would've become a vampire, you never would've saved the day, and Jack wouldn't be back here with us. Admittedly, it is a bit of a miracle that it worked, not to mention that the Reapers didn't show up to 'fix' things, but what matters is that it did. You did the right thing, Rose. Exactly the right thing."

She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "But I almost killed..."

"You didn't," he insisted, willing her to believe him. "You didn't, Rose. You beat it. You won. You saved the day. You saved Jack, you saved me, and you saved the Earth. Not too shabby for a stubborn ape, yeah?"

There. A flicker of a smile and then it was gone. "I almost lost you..."

"I almost lost you," he countered. "But I didn't. You didn't. All safe and sound and back in the TARDIS." The temptation was too much. She was so close. Barely centimetres separated them and he could so easily complete what he'd started before in Evelyn's hostel.

"I could've..." she whispered, unable to complete the sentence.

"But you didn't," he said and gave in. It took less than a second to close the distance, less than a moment to press his lips against hers, less than an instant for her arms to wrap around him and his to wrap around her.

When they finally broke apart, they were both gasping for air. Rose's expression was dazed, her heart racing, her skin flushed, and he felt a dash of purely masculine pride that he'd been the one to do that to her.

Then he realised with flash of panic that he'd changed everything. What if she didn't feel that way? No, he knew she did. What if she didn't...? Enough.

Now this, he decided, was what being a human was like. Regrets and worries climbing to a crescendo in his mind and, without either Jack or Rose saying a word, he didn't know what to think.

What if he'd made a terrible mistake?

* * *

The Doctor had kissed her.

Kissed. Her.

It changed everything and nothing at the same time. She smiled brilliantly at him in reassurance as panic and regret darted across his face. "I don't regret it, Doctor," she said softly, willing him to believe her. She'd been about to succumb to her guilt, but he'd stopped that, prevented that, with just the touch of his lips against hers.

He smiled in response and lifted his hand to caress her cheek, keeping the other against her back. She couldn't help but lean into it as he traced mindless patterns against her skin with his thumb. "Good."

_Was now the time?_ she wondered to herself. Was this the moment that she should say the words that had remained unspoken between them for so long? She could see the meaning behind the words in his eyes and knew that her own echoed them. 

Maybe it was. With Jack returned, with the Doctor here, she knew now that she couldn't live in waiting for someday to arrive. Someday she'd tell them how she felt, someday she'd say the words, someday they'd know even though they already did. She'd almost lost that chance. The two bite-marks on her neck had stolen those somedays from her.

She couldn't wait for it. Someday was today.

"I love you," she said.

His smile deepened as his thumb paused in its caress. She knew he couldn't say the words, or perhaps wouldn't, but she needed him to hear them. Needed him to know. However, she was surprised when he nodded and ducked his head to kiss her again. The words were murmured against her lips, but she heard them.

He said he loved her. And, once again, it changed everything and nothing at the same time.

That was when she heard someone shuffling quietly around them, probably heading for the interior of the ship. Jack, she identified. _Jack! He must think he's not…Oh, bollocks! _

"Where do you think you're going, Jack?" the Doctor asked before she could say anything.

"Seeing if my room's still there," he said, nodding toward the doors that led deeper into the TARDIS. "Trying to figure out what sort of redecorating I have to do. You know, the usual. 'Sides, I figured the two of you wanted to be alone."

She didn't. Not without Jack. The Doctor looked at her intently for a moment and it seemed that he read her correctly as he replied, "Why would we want that?"

"What?" Jack asked, shocked. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but what?"

Still caressing her cheek, the Doctor held out his other hand toward Jack. "Did you think that you're not included, Jack? 'Cause you are."

He still looked shell-shocked, but he joined them. She dropped one arm from the Doctor's neck and wrapped it around Jack. "Didn't you know, Jack?" she asked as swiftly kissed him and leaned back enough to let the Doctor echo the gesture. "Some things are better with three. An' love is one of them."

* * *

Later that night, she dreamed. In some of the dreams, she remembered the days when she'd held the power of a god at her fingertips, when the craving for blood filled her soul, when she'd almost killed the men that she loved. She dreamed about it, but the ending was different now. It was better, far better, than she'd thought it ever could be. She'd learned that endings were beginnings in disguise.

Her earlier dreams had been nothing more than the prologue to the true story. She remembered when the future had been an open book at her fingertips and she smiled. Though she had no idea what the future might hold - _no one was meant to know the future_ - that didn't matter. What mattered was here, now, with them. With the Doctor. With Jack.

This wasn't how her dream ended. This was how it began: with three little words.

_I love you._

And, as all good dreams are, it was a work in progress.

**THE END**


End file.
